Two Households of Dignity
by schroederplayspiano
Summary: After magic comes to Storybrooke, August has what he needs to be a real boy again. Now that he has his life back, he must learn how to be brave, truthful, and unselfish once more. Will he try even harder to fulfill his promise to protect the savior? Will the bond between the savior and her protector threaten to tear their families apart?
1. Looking Up From Underneath

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 1: Looking Up From Underneath_

Something happens when parts of you turn into wood. Blood stops flowing, chest stops going up and down, limbs become stiff – immovable, you loose your ability to feel.

Then the wood creeps up your neck and surrounds your face. You can't taste, talk, hear, or smell. You know what your last look will be, before your mind registers that your sight will go next.

In my last seconds, before my eyes are glazed over, I see the determination in her face, the fire, the anger, and the passion within in her that I always knew existed and wished I could ignite myself, and I knew she would be saved and my father would be saved.

Those were the only two people I needed to be saved.

Thoughts are whirling inside my head. Then, I realize she's saved me too.

Synapses are firing all through my body. Air is coming in and out of my lungs. I move my toes, my fingers, and then my body back and forth. I'm a real boy again!

I debate whether I even want to try to open my eyes. At this point, I have no doubt they will open. Why would I want to open them now? I feel myself smiling, trying to absorb the feeling of strength in my legs, control over my arms; a steady structure to support my soul.

One last deep breath passes through my body before I open my eyes.

It's the same. My room is the same. My clothes are the same. My position on the bed is the same.

I finally move my head to look out the window. Outside, Storybrooke looks the same as well – as if not one hour has passed since I talked to her.

That is the first time since waking up that I am disappointed.

I wish I woke up at home, in my old room in Father's house, and not in Storybrooke.

How can I be here, in Storybrooke, alive? How can the curse be broken and when I am still in Storybrooke? Did they leave me behind?

There is a dust cloud floating past my window. I squint at it and understand everything.

It's no dust cloud.

My mind automatically goes to her.

The savior!

Was she safe? How did this happen? Did she bring the magic or did the magic somehow happen to her as it happened to the rest of us?

My second movement in my new body involves leaping out bed in one seamless, but rigid motion.

Running felt good. In fact, it was wonderful to run. It felt like I was flying down the stairs out of Granny's.

I didn't know why I was doing it, but I knew it was the right thing to do.

The savior needed her protector now.

Nothing and nobody else mattered.

For some reason, which I could not figure out at the time, I knew I could not see Father. I knew he would be okay. Father didn't need my help. Father has lived in a world with magic before.

The savior has never known a world with magic. She would need protecting. In my new life, in my new body, I decided I wouldn't fail her. The protector would fulfill his promise. The protector would protect the savior.

I turned heads as I run through the main street of town. Although the townspeople only have changed slightly, I can see Red Riding Hood coming out of Ruby and Cinderella coming out of Ashley. It was nice. Graceful, even. But as I watched people realize their true selves, they began to look at me with suspicion.

Their thoughts were obvious on their faces when they looked at me.

_Who is that? How does he belong here?_

I don't care what they think. Where is the savior?

She talked about saving her kid, right? Where was he? Wherever her kid was, she would be also. What happened to her kid? Did I forget her words as I lay dying or did she never tell me?

I don't know where I'm running to, but I know I'm going in the right direction. I run past the savior's parents embracing each other in the middle of the street. I wonder if they have remembered they have a daughter yet.

My eyes turn away from the couple to further down the street. My new hearts leap. There she is. The savior is walking with her son – a little too casually for having just saved the town - down the street. I dart my eyes for a spilt second away from her in the opposite direction to see her parents, who haven't realized their daughter or grandson are feet away from them. I turn back to her. She is now starring at her parents.

I back away from the family to give them some space. When I look back at the scene, I realize her eyes are glued to mine as soon as I meet them. I can tell she is conflicted. Soon, she is pleading silently for a way out. I debate weather to give her one, knowing that she will have to face her parents at some point. But when I see the fear in her face and the tears streaming down it, I nod past me indicating the alleyway we can hide in behind me.

She smiles in relief and I visibly see some of the stress leaving her body. Without making any noise, she sprints across the street towards me. My eyes leave hers for a second to check on her son. He has not realized his mother is no longer standing behind him. I know we only have seconds to disappear before both of us are in trouble.

I know helping her hide might be the wrong decision, but I still reach out my forearms to her. When she is close enough she reaches to me and I feel her forearms on mine. I pull her back into the shadows of an alleyway between two town stores.

We don't have a moment to check in with each other before we hear an excited yell from Henry. We both turn our heads to watch.

"You remember!" He shouts down the street while running towards his grandparents. "I knew you would!"

When he reaches Snow White, Henry jumps into her arms without hesitation. Snow White puts her arms around her grandson and lifts him up with a smile. As Prince James is putting his hand on Henry's back, I watch as Snow White's eyes lift from Henry to search for her daughter. In desperation, she looks up and down the empty street.

Prince James must have seen his wife's movement, because I can almost see gears clicking in his head. He whispers something I can't hear to the other two, and Henry turns to point down the street.

They turn and look in the direction he is pointing, still unable to find the only family member they are missing.

"This is cruel," I whisper in her ear.

"Yes, it is," she agrees with me.

"You are not a cruel person."

"Thank you," she says sweetly.

I turn so we are facing each other. I cross my arms, hoping to show her my disappointment. "You can't ignore them forever," I tell her, still in a whisper.

"Sure I can," she whispers back.

"Emma." I say her name in disapproval.

"Okay, fine," she concedes, "But I can right now."

"Come on," I beg, motioning my arm towards her family. "If you don't go to them, they are going worry sick about you."

"They've had 28 years of not worrying about me, waiting a little longer won't kill them."

"Emma," I repeat my disapproval.

"August." She says firmly. I notice she's still using my penname. "I. Can. Not. See. Them. Now."

I tighten my arms that are still crossed on my chest. I look up at and her and see the desperation and raw truth in her face.

Still, I think she will regret it forever if she doesn't see them now.

Her facial expression has changed. I worry she's figured out something I haven't. "So, You've seen to your father then?"

Her eyes are a burning challenge into mine. I hope my shock at her words isn't evident on my face.

"Fair enough." I motion down the alley. "Shall we?"

Her gratitude is in her smile.

I lead her down the alleyway until we turn a corner. She stops right after we change direction and she leans her back against the cold building. I can tell she doesn't want to be to far away from her family.

She puts her hands in her pockets. Her eyes are still glossy, but she attempts a casual conversation. I wonder if it's to keep her mind off of what's happening in the street.

"Hey," she says feebly.

"Hey." I mirror her actions by putting my hands in my pockets. I realized afterwards that my movements have added to the awkwardness of the situation. I motion my head back towards her family. "Too much?" I ask.

She ignores my question. "It's good to see you no longer cast in wood."

I smile and then I accept her request for a different conversation topic.

"I have to admit, skin and bones are a little more comfortable."

She smiles sweetly in response.

"So," I offer, not knowing what to say.

"So…" She repeats. "What now?"

"I don't know." I watch the wind blow softly in her hair, I know I could do this for several more moments.

I watch her as she looks around her. I wonder if it is just to avoid having a real conversation with me, or if she is looking for people who could overhear us.

Not a soul is around.

"So," she looks back at me and starts to mock me. "Seeing your father too difficult for you, huh?"

Once I close my mouth at her insinuation, I consider the meaning behind it. "I had to make sure you were okay first."

"Yes." Her grin mocks me still. "You wouldn't want to report back to him without knowing for sure that the savior is safe."

My face grows serious. "That's not what I meant."

Neither of us say anything for a moment. I make sure my meaning is clear in my eyes as I look at her. She still has her hands in her pockets and I watch her eyes dart around mine and then settle back on the pavement.

That moment is when we hear Henry yell for her, his panic is obvious in his voice.

She steps out from the corner and half-turns her body towards her son. I can tell this decision is killing her.

"Emma!" Henry screams again.

* * *

A/N: Personally, I think there are not enough Emma/August-Pinocchio stories out there :D. If readers were wondering, there is a reason why he is not using Emma's name in his thoughts, you'll find out eventually.


	2. Fractured Moonlight On The Sea

**Two Households Of Dignity**

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 2: Fractured Moonlight On The Sea_

"Emma!" We hear her son scream again.

"Are you really going to let him think somebody abducted you or are you going to show yourself anytime soon?" I challenge her. We make eye contact again and I can see the wheels turning in her head. "I thought he was the most important person in your life," I say quickly, hoping she would go to him.

I watch as her eyes widen, some light going off in her head.

"You owe me a favor," she repeats my conversational speed with accusation.

"What?" I ask, confused.

"I just saved your life."

"You just saved everyone's lives," I correct her. "What's your point?"

"You owe me a favor," she slurs her words together talking so quickly. "And, aren't you supposed to be unselfish and everything in order to stay a real boy?"

I can't believe she is actually using who I am against me.

"You can go get Henry for me and tell him I'm fine."

"Why?" I couldn't help letting out a small laugh at her request. "So your parents will think somebody abducted both of you?"

"Don't call them that," her words seemed to come of her unconsciously.

"Oh!" I step back from her in amazement. "Is someone still in denial?"

Now all three of them are yelling her name, we hear somebody running down the alleyway. She moved further down the wall.

"Just go!" My heart goes out her when I see the fear on her face. It was painful to watch. "Please," she begs.

"Fine," I concede. I had to look at her for one more moment. I wondered if she would run in the opposite direction when I left. "Stay here." I demand then turn, running back around the corner into the alleyway.

Sure enough, Henry was running in our direction in search of his mother. He stopped with clear surprise when he saw me.

"Pinocchio!" He yells.

Shoot. Even though the whole town remembers now, I had hoped to remain anonymous for a little while. Rumpelstiltskin was enough to deal with.

"Where's Emma? Have you seen Emma?"

I raise my index finger to my lips in attempt to quiet him.

He approaches me so we are whispering length apart. "Where's Emma?"

I bend down to him. "Your mom is fine, Henry."

"Where is she?" Worry is in his voice. "She was right behind me and then she disappeared."

"Everything's okay," I try feebly to comfort him and know I am doing a terrible job when I see the disbelief on his face.

"You're not supposed to be lying," he states in his know-it-all tone.

"Henry!" I blurt out, shocked at his words. "It's really important that you don't tell anyone who I am."

He furrows his eyebrows, obviously confused. "Why?"

I try to speak his language. "It's part of the plan of operation Cobra." Some confusion leaves his face when I use his code. "Just promise me you won't tell anyone who I am."

"If you tell me what happened to my mom."

Wow, her boy is good.

"Your mom can't see her parents right now."

Henry crosses his arms, unsatisfied. "Why can't she see them?"

That is a good question, Henry. I search through my brain, hoping to find an explanation that would make sense.

"She's still on operation Cobra duty. She has to take care of some more of the follow out from the curse breaking. Your mom just wants to make sure everything's in order before she returns to her parents."

Does covering for somebody you're trying to protect count as a lie?

"I want to help!" Henry jumps at any chance to be part of operation Cobra.

I think fast. I look up to see Snow White and Prince James about to turn down the alleyway.

"Henry," I put my hand on his chest to try to tell him my request is important. "We need you to take care of your grandparents until Emma is done with her work. Can you do that? That would be helping."

Before he can respond, Snow White locates him. She runs down the alleyway with her husband. I stand up straight.

"Henry!" Snow White cries in relief. Prince James smiles as his wife takes his grandson in her arms. He puts his hand on Henry's back. "Don't run away like that!"

"I was just looking for Emma," he says. When he sees that they're both still worried he adds, "I'm sorry."

Then I notice Prince James is examining me. "Who are you?" He inquires.

I hesitate for a moment. "I'm August," I answered.

That _is_ what Snow White knows me as – at least the grown up version of myself.

"August, have you seen Emma?" Snow White interrupts her husband's examination.

"Uh," I feel trapped in a wooden body again. I hate this feeling. "Yes," I reply shortly.

"Well," Prince James was clearly annoyed with me, "Where was she going?"

I look at Henry. I can tell he wants to help me, but can't find a logical way to do it.

"I'm not sure, sorry. She looked in a hurry."

Yeah, I'm pretty sure that counted as a lie. Henry closes his eyes signaling his disapproval.

Great.

"Who are you?" Prince James questions again.

Why is he doing this? I must have 'liar' written on my face.

"I told you, I'm August."

"That's your name in Storybrooke." His words are a statement although its obvious he's asking a question.

I don't bite. "Yes, it is."

"August is a friend of Emma's," Snow White tells Prince James.

"And he was running somewhere when I bumped into him, weren't you?" Henry chimes in.

I knew I liked that kid.

"Yes. I was," I tell a version of the truth, "And I should probably get back to it," I add, pointing ahead of me.

"Right," Snow White says. "Well, we wouldn't want to take up more of your time."

I smile to her in gratitude.

I lift my foot to move when Prince James stops me.

"What direction do you remember Emma going?"

"That way," I lie again and point in the opposite direction she was hiding. I smiled briefly before running past them and around the block.

The streets were surprising empty since the curse broke. I wonder if people are having their reunions indoors or if they are hiding from the magic that has just arrived in town.

I round the back corner of the building and see the savior still leaning against the cement wall. Her eyes are closed and I see her chest reflect her deep breathing in and out. She still looks stressed and upset.

I decide the best thing to do is to ignore her pain in hopes she will recover from it faster.

"You owe me big time," I boast.

Her eyes burst open and she stares at me.

"What are you talking about?"

"I just lied for you so you can hide from your parents who, by the way, are still looking for you."

"How does Henry know who you are?"

"You heard us?" I ask, shocked.

She ignores me. "How does he know who you are?"

"He knows who everyone is."

"August," she says disapprovingly.

"I'm not lying." The look on her face tells me that wasn't the point. "He came to see me when I was dying."

I can see her putting pieces together. "And he saw your wooden limbs."

I cross my arms and smile smugly. "He was excited."

"I bet he was."

She returns my smile only for a moment before our expressions turn serious.

"So, what are you going to now that you don't have anyone to hide from?"

"Well," she starts and I already know I won't like the next words out her mouth. "I thought we could go see your father."

My brain freezes.

"And would we do that?" I ask quickly.

"Well," she starts again slowly. "You're supposed to protect me, right? I think I would feel more comfortable having a reunion with my family after I see yours. You could be an example-role model type person for me." I lips turn upward at her pathetic list of excuses. She can see I'm not convinced, so she adds, "Plus I thought you would look good if you bring me home with you."

"Bring you home with me?" I ask, wondering exactly what she means.

"Yeah, you know," she says casually. "Like you promised him."

"Wow, the more afraid you are of facing your family the thinner your excuses become."

"Okay, never mind," innocence is all over her face as she speaks. "We can avoid our parents together," sarcasm creeps into her voice. "We'd be a pair of 'used to be orphans, orphans.'"

"Emma."

"Or 'we waited all our lives to find our parents, once we did, we avoided them.'"

"Stop."

"No, wait. I'm on a roll." Despite my annoyance, I'm glad she's smiling. "We found the gold at the end of the rainbow, but we didn't try to take it because the leprechauns were scary."

"Since when are leprechauns scary?" I ask.

But she's ignoring me. So, I gently grab her wrist, start walking, and pull her behind me. Her feet move, but I doubt if she notices; she's too absorbed in her quirky remarks.

It's cute.

"Or 'our parents abandoned us so we could save them from a horrible, magical, curse. When we did save them, we never returned home because we had trust issues.'"

"I don't have trust issues," I inform her.

She ignores this too.

"If we don't return to our parents, we'd be letting down all those children who watch Disney movies. It'd be like telling them there was no Santa Claus on their 8th birthday instead of their 11th – 'The movie says they got their happy ending, but since Snow White's daughter and Pinocchio didn't complete their task, Disney lied.''"

I wonder if her quirkiness is her way of dealing with her emotions.

"Imagine the lawsuit against us!"

I could not imagine the lawsuit against us. I kept pulling her along, deciding to ignore her until she returned to reality.

It took a while, her analogies sounding worse and worse each time.

Suddenly she stops. Both her lips and her legs freeze at the same time.

"Oh, ran out of fairytale idioms, have we?" I tease.

She looked at my hand on her arm and then straight at me. I didn't let go of her arm and she didn't ask me to – at least not verbally.

"Where are we going?"

"Where do you think we're going?" I throw back at her.

She is silent. Her expression turns serious.

"Do you realize," I keep hold of her arm, moving closer to her. "That almost all of your analogies, sayings, moral lessons – whatever – actually had the underlying message telling you to go see your parents?"

"No." She freezes again. "I did not realize that."

I cross my arms and a huge, victorious smile appears on my face.

"You're mocking me." Through her annoyance, a smile begins to show on her face.

I don't what is cuter, her quirky remarks or when half of her is annoyed with me and the other half of her is amused.

"Very possible."

I laugh at her. She pushes on my arm and follows my back step. "August!"

I am extremely aware that our faces are close together, our noses and foreheads almost touching.

We both turn serious.

"When are you going to start calling me Pinocchio?" I whisper.

"When you stop thinking of me as someone you need to protect," she whispers back.

I look deep into her eyes and can see her honesty and her fear as she silently pleads with me.

I could never think of her as someone I didn't need to protect.

"I guess we're at an impasse then," I say.

A slight smile reappears on her face. She's beautiful.

"I guess so."

I return her smile, but now am loss at what to do next. I watch her eyes close for a moment and then reopen. A question is being asked behind those hazel eyes.

I can't answer it.

She backs away.

"Where are we going?" She asks breathlessly.

Her words snap me out of the moment.

"We're almost there."

I point around the corner, and she walks ahead of me. I wait behind; unaware I am also out of breath.

I turn the familiar corner that leads to my father's house.

First, I see her, frozen in misstep.

Then, I see both our families, standing in my father's front yard, clearly waiting for nobody but the two of us.

* * *

A/N: Wow, I'm floored by the response to this story! I'm so glad there are August/Emma fans out there. Readers don't have to worry about updates if they continue to share their enthusiasm.


	3. Reflections Still Look The Same To Me

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 3: Reflections Still Look The Same To Me_

It happens differently than I imagined.

My father won't look at me.

How could he not know who I was? I watched him as he scanned everyone in his yard except for me.

I was sure he knew who I was. How could he not know? Did he know and that's why he isn't looking at me? Is it because he can't hold himself together and look at me simultaneously?

If that's true, the best thing I can do is to look away from him also, lessen some of the pressure on both of us.

But I can't stop looking at my Father.

Henry is standing next to him on the steps of his porch. They seem very comfortable with each other. For a second I am jealous.

"Emma," Prince James whispers, his voice breaking as he approaches his daughter.

And then reality hits.

I turn away from my Father to watch her.

The savior, who is still frozen, stares at her father coming towards her. When he steps out of the yard into the street, she steps back for each of his forward steps until her back runs into me.

"Save me," she whispers to me.

I turn my head so I can whisper in her ear. My nose is touching her soft check.

"I thought you didn't want my protection," I offer as her father approaches closer.

"That's not exactly what I said," she says quickly.

"Too bad." My words are spoken at her speed. "Besides, It's your father. There's nothing to protect you from." I push her forward so she's in her father's arm's length. She looks back at me with an evil look. I raise my hands in innocence. "Sorry."

She turns back to face him. No words are spoken between them. I see the utter joy on Prince James' face as he takes her in. It is clear he is trying to memorize every contour on her face and every strand of her hair. Tears flow down his checks as he cups her face with both hands.

There is movement elsewhere in the yard. I look up to find Snow White running towards the father and daughter reunion. She is running to them so fast that she crashes into her husband, causing him to sidestep away from his daughter for a moment. I smile, his sidestep actually makes it easier for Snow White to pull both them into a hug.

The savior is facing me. I can tell their hug has pushed her to a place she wasn't ready to go.

She backs out of the embrace.

My smile leaves my face.

"I'm sorry," I can barely hear her whisper to them. There is confusion on Prince James' face, empathy on Snow White's. The savior dodges their glances and looks up at her son. "Henry!"

Henry runs down from my father to her. "You disappeared!" His voice is edged with anger but excitement as well. "I couldn't find you."

She bends down to Henry as he runs straight into her and she lifts him up. He is still angry at her, "You can't run away! Magic is back! When you disappear it actually means something!"

I know what Henry is telling her is serious and true, but I can't help smiling at his words. Perhaps the savior doesn't need discipline from her mother or her father, her son would be a master at it.

She puts her hand over his hair. "I'm sorry, kid." She closes her eyes as she holds him tighter. He is clearly still angry with her, I can see him whispering instructions or rules or expectations to her, but can't understand his words.

Her parents look at them with longing, desperate to be part of the group. There is awkwardness there too – They don't know what to do when their grandson is angry with their daughter.

Henry starts to yell at her. "I don't want to be here! I can't believe you came here!"

The smiles leave everyone's faces when Henry turns visibly upset. I wish I could help her, but I have no idea what to do. I've never seen him upset like this before.

"Okay, Henry," she whispers, still stroking his hair, begging him to calm down. "We're going. We're going to go," she looks at me at that moment for some reason. "Let's get you to bed."

"I don't want to go to bed! It's six o'clock!"

"Henry!" She cries. She puts him down and bends to him, her hand moving from his hair to his face down to his shoulder. "You just got out of the hospital. It's been a long day. I've been up for 24 hours trying to save your life! I need to go to bed too." Tears start to run down her face. When Henry sees her tears, tears form in his eyes as well. "We'll go to bed together, okay? You can sleep with me."

Her offers seems to satisfy him. He goes back into her arms, she lifts him up, and he rests his head on her shoulder.

She looks around, clearly unsure what to do next.

"Let's go home, Emma." Snow White offers. "Your room is waiting for you upstairs." She can see her daughter's apprehension at her idea. "I promise we won't bother you. It'll be warm and quiet, and it's big enough for the two of you."

Her mother's words freak her out. She is too tired to argue though.

She tilts her head towards her son. "Does that sound good Henry?"

He is already asleep.

A laugh of relief comes out of her when she realizes this. I smile when she does.

Then she approaches me. I wonder why as I stand still waiting for her to come closer.

She has stopped crying. There are still tearstains etched on her checks.

"So, we," she looks at Henry and then back me. "Are going to go take a nap."

"That sounds like a good idea. You must be exhausted," I say emphatically.

"Thanks for your help today," she says sweetly.

"Back 'atcha."

There is silence for a moment as we stare at each other.

"I'm scared," she admits.

Her words and tone of voice make my heart break. I reach my hand to her shoulder to comfort her.

"I know," I say softly. "And you have every right to be. Just take it a step at a time, okay? She promised to leave you alone. All you have to do is walk up the stairs."

She stares at me, almost like she's waiting for more instructions. I move hand down her arm and squeeze it softly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

We look deep into each other's eyes for one second. A warm smile crosses her face.

"See you tomorrow," she whispers, already turning away from me. My hand falls off her when she's out of reach.

She doesn't wait for her parents to start walking in the direction of Mary-Margaret's house – I guess its Snow White's now. I watch her back, with Henry's arms around her neck, until it is out of sight.

Snow White and James take a quick moment to say goodnight to my father, wave to me, and then follow their daughter down the street and out of sight, hand in hand.

I watch them for as long as I can and then turn my head back to my father who is still on the porch steps.

We're alone.

"Pinocchio!" He cries as he runs to me. My wide grin matches his and I move towards him too. "My son!"

His arms are around me before I know it. I've been waiting for this moment for 28 years. I never dared to think it would be better than I imagined. My arms wrap tightly around him, it feels so good to have his loving arms around me. We stand in the deserted street for a long time, embracing. I pull back when I hear him sniffling and I realize tears are streaming down my face as well.

He puts his hands on my face. "You came back to me."

"Of course I did, Father."

He smiles through his tears. "Look at you! You look so different!" He pulls back even further to examine me. "But also the same. Your eyes are the same beautiful blue ones I remember. And of course, your nose is the same."

I smile as points to my nose. I move closer to him once more and look at him sincerely. "I've missed you so much."

"Oh, Pinocchio," his hands are on my face once more. "I'm so proud of you."

There it is. His words come out just as he promised, just as I wanted them to, and yet I know I don't deserve them.

All I can do is look at him.

"You brought Emma home to her parents," he says proudly.

I freeze.

Well, technically I did, today.

I wonder what he would say if he knew the truth. But, I can't bring myself to ruin the moment.

"Come in! Come in!" Father says excitedly. Just like when I came first to his garage, he puts one hand on my back and leads me into his home. "I want to hear everything."

I don't want to tell him everything. In fact, I don't think I want to tell him anything. Even though the curse is broken, everything's not fixed. We are not home. Until we are home, I will always look at my past with shame and regret.

We make our way into the house. He opens the door for me and I walk in ahead of him.

I've never been inside his house. When we worked, we would always stay in the garage.

Somehow, it smells the same. I mean, the same as our house at home. Of course it looks completely different – more American, less magical.

I wonder if the smell of his house is father's scent and that's what I am remembering.

"Sit, sit!" He insists. "I'll make some tea."

I love my father's tea. Nobody makes it like he does.

"That's sounds wonderful," I tell him. He smiles and turns his back on me.

"So, tell me," I start, seizing the chance of a quiet moment. "Did Henry tell you to cover for me?"

"Yes, he did," he says as he is gathering the tea from his shelf. "He came running up to me before his grandparents and told me everything really quickly."

"You certainly did a good job keeping your cool back there."

He turns his head to look at me. "I was jumping on the inside," he says through he smile.

I've never seen my father jump.

"He's a great kid," He says as he brings the teacups to the table and sits down.

"Yeah, he is," I agree with him. "The curse couldn't have been lifted without him."

"So," Father starts with a sly smile. "Is he yours?"

I'm thankful I haven't started drinking tea yet.

"What?" I ask, shocked. "No. No, he's not."

"Oh," Father says shortly. I can tell he's disappointed.

_Oh, my, god! He's disappointed!_

There's knocking on the door. It opens slightly.

"Knock, knock," I hear man's voice. It sounds familiar.

"Jiminy!" My father says excitedly.

Thank god for best friends and their timings.

The smiles on their faces are priceless. I watch happily as they embrace.

Jiminy spots me over my father's shoulder. "Oh my," he breaks away from my father and walks towards me. I stand up. He eyes me closely. "Pinocchio?"

That's Jiminy Cricket? I can tell from his voice, but that's never what I expected his human form to look like.

"Jiminy?" I say as we go in for a short embrace.

"Boy, you look different," he comments.

"So do you," I gesture his human form, he laughs.

"Where's your red hair?" He jokes.

Before I can answer, there is another knocking on the door.

"Geppetto?" I hear an angry voice from outside. We look at each other, confused. "Geppetto?"

My heart drops. That's Prince James' voice. Prince James' angry voice.

Shit.

My father stands to go answer the door. I turn to Jiminy.

"Don't tell me him my name," I tell him firmly.

"What?" He asks, confused. "You're not supposed to be lying."

"Just," I add a clear emphasis to my speech. "Don't."

Prince James walks into our kitchen like he owns the place. He looks at me.

"You're not allowed to see my daughter ever again."

I can't even process what he's saying.

"What?" I sit up straighter. "What?"

His voice is still angry. He stares me down. "I talked to the Blue Fairy," he announces to the room.

Like I said:

Shit.

* * *

A/N: And that's where I'm leaving it for a week. :) or :(! I'm going on vacation and will be without my computer.

I'd actually had planned on leaving it at Chapter 2, but when I get that kind of enthusiastic response from my readers, I work extra hard to give the next chapter to them. Again, I am blown away by the response I am receiving from you guys. Every review is special to me. See, when you give me enthusiasm, I return it. I think I am spoiling you guys with my fast updates, but I feel spoiled by you guys, so it's okay. _Thanks so much. _

_Have a fantastic week everyone - I'll be back soon.__  
_


	4. As Before I Went Under

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 4: As Before I Went Under_

He talked to the Blue Fairy. He knows.

Silence falls over the room after Prince James' announcement. Quickly, everyone looks at each other separately, as if they were trying to protect their own secrets while figuring out what the others were hiding.

The Prince's eyes come back to mine.

"You talked to the Blue Fairy already?" I wonder how that is even possible. "Did you, what, run into each other while on your way home?" I try to lighten the moment, but his face remains serious.

"She was waiting for my family when we arrived home." He states shortly. He expects me to say something, I don't. "What do you have say for yourself?" To make his point really clear, he adds, "Pinocchio," in a deeper voice.

"You have a right to be upset," I try softly. "And I'm sorry."

"That's all you have to say?" He asks in disbelief

I take a deep breath and wonder why I'm not taking our conversation outside. "I was seven years old. I did the best I could."

"It wasn't good enough. You shouldn't have been there in the first place. Emma needed her mother, not a child guardian."

"I agree!" I say quickly.

Our agreement lessens some of the tension in the room. The Prince has a chance to ground himself, and he takes a deep breath.

"Does Emma know who you are?"

"Yes." I say confidently.

"Does she know you took her mother's spot in the wardrobe?"

My eyes close at his question, I try to regroup myself before I answer him. "No," I whisper. "She doesn't."

"The wardrobe wasn't meant for you! Emma, my daughter, is the savior." Pride is in his voice as he talks about his daughter. "She just saved everyone, not you!"

"It wasn't my decision."

"And that makes it okay?"

I feel my blood start to boil.

"Of course not." I raise my voice. "Nobody said it was okay. I stood up for your family when the decision was made. I didn't want to go." I see the Prince start to say something. I cut him off. "Emma is fine. She broke the curse. Everything worked out."

"Oh! Okay," Prince James' sarcastic voice starts to come out. "So everything worked out, which means it's okay that you abandoned her? My daughter grew up completely alone with nobody to guide her, to take of her, to watch over her."

My Father and Jiminy look at me, appalled, when his words come out.

"What?" Both of them ask.

"Everything's okay!" Anger comes out of Prince James, even though he isn't yelling, his tone of voice is scary. "Is that what you think?"

"I think it's been a long day for everyone and we're all tired. You've just realized your whole life was out of your control for a long time." My words are offensive to him, but I keep my voice at a whisper. "Now, you're looking for someone you can control so you feel in control of your own life."

"How dare - "

I cut him off by bringing my voice up to its normal volume. "She's twenty-eight years old." After my words come out, I actually think about them. I realize she'll be twenty-nine in a couple of days. "You're treating a woman like she's still a little girl." I pause, hoping to keep my cool in check and my presentation as respectful as possible. "If you want me to stop seeing Emma, I will. But ripping someone she trusts away from her right now is only going to hurt her even more."

His eyes turn into slits.

"She trusts you?" He asks, as if it was an abhorring concept.

"As much as she can." I try to be empathic while still hoping to inform him about his daughter. "She basically doesn't trust anyone. She's been through a lot in her life – or even in the last few months. The very fact that she trusts me and her mother is pretty much a miracle by itself."

"Well, she'll still have her mother."

"Okay," I concede quietly. "That's true."

The shock look on his face tells me he wasn't expecting me to give in so easily.

"Stay away from Emma." The Prince demands firmly.

Jiminy must see the hurt on my face because he decides then is the right time to intervene.

"Pinocchio already said he would. Which, if you asks me, is a horrible thing to ask him." Jiminy doesn't continue until Prince James looks at him. "Did you see them together? Emma wouldn't leave with you until he calmed her down. She needs a support system outside her family or she'll crumble." Jiminy could see the hurt Prince James takes at his comment, so he adds. "Everyone does."

A little bit of anger leaves his face after Jiminy's comment. He turns to my Father.

"Your decision ripped my family apart! My daughter grew up without a mother so your son could – well – do whatever the hell he's be doing for the last 28 years."

I stand up, stepping in front of my Father and Jiminy.

"Get. Out." I demand.

"Excuse me?"

"You can't come into my father's home and insult him. He made the same decision you did – to protect his child. You don't have a right to play the victim here. If it weren't for my father and his wardrobe, Emma would have been stuck as a baby in this curse world forever and all us would be walking around like zombies without our memories for the rest of our lives."

My defensive words seem to have shut him up.

"Besides," I say more calmly. "Shouldn't you be with your newly reunited family right now? Don't you have a sleeping daughter that you should be staring at? Why are you here, trying to stir up trouble, when you could be memorizing every detail of her face?"

Who wouldn't want the chance to stare at her beautiful face for hours without interruption?\

"I-" Prince James starts, but his words seem to be caught in his throat.

I point towards my Father's front door. "Get. Out." I say again firmly.

The Prince's face reddens. It's clear his feet are frozen where there are, stuck between embarrassment and regret.

I turn to look at my Father and Jiminy for some kind of approval. I see they are waiting for him to leave as well. I hope the scene that has just past between us is purely the result of the emotional day and not one we will look back on and hold against each other.

The next moment, the Prince turns and walks to the door. All three of us watch his back until it's gone. My eyes are still glued to the window when I feel both my Father and Jiminy's disappointed eyes on me, waiting for an explanation.

Explaining my actions to the Prince is one thing, explaining them to my Father and Jiminy is another.

I can't look at them so I stare at the table in silence, counting the seconds until I can be excused.

"Pinocchio," My Father's voice almost breaks with sadness.

"I know you're disappointed in me," I say softly. "I'm sorry."

Jiminy follows my eye line to the table and tries to raise it to him. "Do you remember me telling you to be unselfish in the new world when you left, Pinocchio?"

"Yes," I say to the table. After a moment I look up at him, "I tried my best to be unselfish, but I didn't know what to do." I pause and remember to add, "But I did protect her and took her to safety. That's the important thing right? She's believes in her destiny and she broke the curse."

Hopefully they see how truly sorry I am in my face.

We are all silent for a moment. My Father is watching me and I see emotions run through his face.

Finally, a warm smile appears. It isn't wide, I can barely see it, but it's there. "It's still good to see you, my son."

I return his slight smile and move closer to him. He knows what I'm seeking and he moves in his chair to wrap his arms around me. I go into him, putting his my arms around him and resting my chin on his shoulder. His face moves a little to kiss my forehead. I close my eyes.

When we pull away from each other, our laughter breaks any remaining tension. My Father puts his hand on my check to finish saying our hellos.

I am truly happy.

The next few hours are some of the happiest of my life. We stay up talking, just the three of us until the early hours of the morning. At midnight, Jiminy brings out the drinks and laughter is shared continuously between us.

I tell them of my adventures abroad and they share events in Storybrooke. It seems to be an unspoken rule that we don't talk about anything painful or negative. It's better that way. There'll be plenty of time to share absolutely everything. Now was not the time to dwell on mistakes or worry about the future.

By the time I go to bed, I am not sure whether I am drunk on alcohol or on happiness. It is clear in the morning though, when I look through the window of my Father's spare bedroom and see the sun high in the sky, when I feel completely happy and perfect.

And then I think of her.

I am still happy, but the smile leaves my face as I stare at the sun, wondering how her day is going. I hope any reunion or conversation with her parents wasn't too hard for her and their relationships have gone as smoothly as they could at this point.

I rise from bed in hopes of finding and protecting the savior. I finish putting on my pants and am reaching for my shirt when I realize I shouldn't see her today.

I fall back on the bed.

"Pinocchio, my boy." My Father knocks on the door.

"Good morning," I say as a way of giving him permission to enter. I reach for my shirt and pull over my head as he comes in.

Even though I have my back towards him, I know he is smiling.

"It's afternoon, my son."

I thought it might be. "Anything important happen this morning?"

"There seems to be a couple of big celebrations in different parts of town, but I didn't go by."

I look at him with concern. "Why not?"

"I'd rather just spend the day with you and Jiminy," he answers honestly.

"He's still here?" I ask in disbelief.

He nods. "We're going down to the workshop and he's going to keep me company while I finish some work I have to do." He pleads with me, "Would you like to join us?"

How can I say no?

Especially when it sounds absolutely perfect.

My smile is my answer. I walk towards the door and my Father places his hand on my back as we walk to the garage.

When I enter the garage, I stop in my tracks.

She is here.

The savior is wearing jeans, flip-flops, and a nice flowing green top. Her hair is down, but has lost most of its curls. I have a feeling her straight hair might be a reflection on how her day is going.

I turn back to my Father. "Did you know she was here?"

"No," he says, surprised. "Do you think her father forbid her to come?"

Before I have time to answer, she sees me and walks further into the garage.

"Hey," she says softly.

I step closer to her. "Hey," I say faintly. I add a tone of empathy when I see her emotionally drained face.

When we're in arm's length of each other, she places both her hands in her back pockets. It's clear she's nervous.

I scan her as I ask, "What are you doing here?" softly.

"I wanted to see you," she says with a smile.

"Why?"

She shrugs, with her hands still in her pockets. "I needed to see you," she corrects herself breathlessly.

She is going to be the death of me.

Or her father will be, since I know now I can't stay away from her.

* * *

A/N: I'm back! Thank you guys for waiting and returning to read the new update. Also, thanks for the vacation wishes, I had a wonderful time.

My readers give the best reviews. Their feedback is honestly so helpful, it is such a treat to read. I can't thank you enough. I'm glad you're enjoying the story I much I enjoy writing it.

Emma and August will be back to their fun banter and romantic tension next chapter if you missed it here. I'm halfway done with it, so the sooner you guys let me know you want it, the sooner I'll post it. :P!


	5. And It's Peaceful In The Deep

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 5: And It's Peaceful In The Deep_

I still haven't spoken. Her confession leaves me speechless. I watch her for a moment, alone in my own world. She is raw in front of me; hands still in her back pockets, shoulders raised with apprehension.

She is waiting for me to respond.

How to I respond to that kind of confession?

"Do you want to go for a walk?" Walking the only comfort I know to offer.

Her anxiety visibly leaves her at my offer and I know I've said done right. She smiles and takes her hands out of her pockets. "That sounds perfect."

For the first time since I've seen her today, I feel a smile on my face.

"Great," I say. I turn back to my Father, who looks impressed. He smiles to me encouragingly as I turn away to wave to Jiminy. "See you soon," I say to them and point out of the garage. "Let's go."

She follows my finger and turns right. I follow her. When she turns the corner away from my Father's sight I catch up with her.

She looks at me when I reach her side, but quickly looks ahead of her. "Where are we going?"

I point to the hill ahead of us. "Just up there. It's a nice little hike."

"Okay" is all she says.

We walk in silence until we reach the bottom of the hill and the trailhead. We look at each other; both asking silently if the other is ready to go.

She steps in front of me and walks until she loses herself in the shades of the tress.

"So," I wonder how I should start the conversation. "Where's Henry?"

She takes a deep breath. "He's with my parents."

I smile at her. "That was hard for you to say."

She shoots me an annoyed look. "Don't get me started."

I can't help letting out a small laugh, which annoys her even further. "Oh, come on! It can't be that bad."

"You have no idea," she starts. "I woke up to both of them watching me sleep this morning."

I try to hide my smile knowing I suggested the idea to her father last night.

"They're just trying to make up for lost time. I'm sure they just wanted to memorize every detail of their daughter's face."

She stops at my words and puts her flat palms out in front of her at me. "Okay. Here are my three rules."

I try really hard not to laugh at her frustration. "There are rules?" I ask, mocking her a little.

"Never, ever defend my parents to me. You are my protector, not theirs."

She is possessive of me? That's new. I don't know if that's what our savior-protector relationship is supposed to be, but I kind of like it.

"I don't think being your protector includes siding with you. If anything shouldn't I be helping you have a better relationship with them?"

Which I'm not really doing anyway by hanging out with her against her father's wishes.

She ignores me and raises her voice. "Rule Number Two." The expression on her face is hilarious. She is trying to sound serious, but clearly knows her rules are a little bit ridiculous. "Do not call me Your Highness, Your Royal Highness, Princess or anything relating to that form of title."

I look at her face and laugh. "How many people have said that to you today?"

"Too many," she says quickly and I can tell she doesn't want to elaborate. "Rule Number Three." Her feet are firm on the ground and I can tell now her rules are actually important to her. "We, the two of us, are not going to talk about our past; not our past in Storybrooke or anything that happened to us before we arrived here. Understood?"

The last rule is interesting. My bet is we can't go two days without our past coming up. For now, though, I like it.

"It'll be like nothing important ever happened between us," I say in my mocking voice. "We'll be strangers who know each other very well."

She narrows her eyebrows at me. She is so cute when she frustrated. "Rule Number Four." She makes up on the spot. "No mocking Princess Emma."

"Oh-oh!" I let out. "So you're allowed to call yourself Princess and I'm not? I don't think that's going to work. We wouldn't want your ego to inflate too much, then you'll lose some of your savior charm."

She opens her mouth, crosses her arms, and shakes her head back and forth. "You just broke rules two, three, and four." She walks ahead of me. "I don't think we can be friends anymore."

I wait for her to realize I'm not walking behind her. While I'm waiting, I marvel at the way she can become frustrated and how adorable it is.

She turns around after a minute. "Aren't you coming?"

"I thought you just said we weren't friends anymore."

"Friends or not friends, I still need my protector."

I run to catch up with her. "Oh, so now I'm not your friend, just your protector?"

She nods. "Right now you are."

"You're unbelievable."

"You have to protect me from these big scary woods."

"No, I'm just here so you can have someone to lash out on."

Her expression turns serious for a moment. She's not sure if I am poking fun at her or not.

I finally laugh a little and she understands my intentions. She lightly pushes me off to the side of the trail.

As I come back to her, I see her smiling. Her friendly push is her payback. When I walk next to her, everything is perfect.

We walk up the rest of the trail in silence. Our silence is not because anything is awkward or because we have nothing to say to each other or because I'm afraid of breaking her rules – which obviously I'm not.

I keep her request for silence when I understand why she came to me in the first place. She needed some rest, needed some fun, and needed some understanding. I look at her face again as we walk and understand the most important thing she needs: peace.

So, that's what I give her for the rest of our walk. Besides a little conversation here and there, we make it up and down the trail in silence.

And it's nice.

As we're coming down the trail, I notice her physical appearance has changed. It's not obvious, but I can tell she feels better. Her hands casually by her side, her shoulders lowered from less stress, and her worried creases in her face have disappeared.

My heart fills when realize I helped cause a positive change in her.

Towards the end of the trail, I see Prince Thomas and Princess Cinderella entering with their baby. I think her name is Alexandra, but I'm not sure.

They stop in their tracks when they see the savior. I can see some of the stress reenter her body as they bust into thanks and tell her how much she looks like her parents.

Princess Cinderella is still gushing over how much the savior reminds her of her best friend, when the savior looks back at me for help.

My hearts skips a beat.

I put my hands on her shoulders as I say, "Excuse me, I am so sorry to interrupt." Princess Cinderella and her husband look up at me. "But I promised I'd return Emma to her parents before dinner, and," I look at my watch for show. "Look, it's almost five o'clock. We'd better get going."

The royal couple looks at me like I'm out of place.

"Who are you, again?" Princess Cinderella asks, confused.

"I'm August," I answer instinctually.

She still looks puzzled. Prince Thomas reads her thoughts and asks, "And why aren't you calling her Princess Emma?"

I make eye contact with the savior for a spilt second. She is torn between being really annoyed and laughing her head off.

"Because she asked me not to." I finally can answer a question honestly.

"Honey," Princess Cinderella says. She picks up the savior's hands in hers, clearly making her even more uncomfortable. "Only close friends and family can ignore your title. The rest should give you respect."

"He is a close friend," the savior defends me.

"Oh. Really?" Prince Thomas asks, trying to understand our connection.

"Really," she confirms with a fake, annoyed smile. "And, like he said, we do need to get going."

"Of course!" Princess Cinderella lets go of the savior's hands. "We don't want to take up anymore of your time." We start to walk out of the trail, when we hear Princess Cinderella running towards us. She reaches for one of the savior's hands again. "Thank you again. Thank you so much."

There is no response and the princess runs back to her family after one more friendly smile.

When she is gone, the savior lets out the laugh she's been holding in for the entire conversation.

"Oh. My. God." She adds between laughs.

I smile as I watch her.

"I see what you mean. That would get annoying."

She reaches for my forearm, we make eye contact, and she stops laughing.

"Thank you," she says seriously but sweetly.

"For what?"

I didn't actually help her or make the situation less awkward. I tried, though.

"For lying for me."

Oh. She noticed.

"Yes, I shouldn't do that anymore, should I?"

"No, I actually like when you lie for me," she informs me. "Just don't lie to me."

I watch her as she says this. Once again, she is so raw, so beautiful, and so honest.

I have to turn away from her. Staring at her fervent face, begging me to give her an answer, is killing me.

"Come on," she says playfully. I know she's smiling even though I can't see it. She reaches for my arm and gently pulls me to face her. "It's not like you're that good a liar anyways."

"That's what you think," I tell her casually. "I'm actually a pretty good liar when I want to be."

She rolls her eyes at me. While it's cute, I'm surprised she doesn't believe me.

"Sure." The savior pulls me forward.

"Where are we going?"

She stops. I realize she has no idea where we're going.

"Actually," her voice loses its energy. "I should get back."

"Ok," I respond, hoping to hid my disappointment.

"Thanks for helping me clear my head."

I smile, "That's what I'm here for."

I think about my words. Is that actually what I'm here for? Is that my role as her protector? Should I be protecting her from emotional hurts as well as physical ones?

That's what I've been doing. For the first time I question what our relationship means. I don't know if I want her to come to me when she just needs to avoid something or clear her head: Not if that's the only reason she's coming to me.

"No, seriously." She puts her hand on my shoulder and raises her head to kiss my check. When I recover and open my eyes, she's looking at me sweetly. "Thank you."

And then she walks away.

I can't go back to my Father's house until she disappears out of sight. Her straight hair is the last thing I see when she turns a corner in the opposite direction of my Father's house.

I spend the rest of the late afternoon with my Father and Jiminy. We share some cider in his garage as he starts a new wooden project. He won't tell us what it will be, but I know it will be great. I'm excited to see it when it's done.

I do actual work for him as he creates another wooden masterpiece. I fill paperwork, collect receipts, and clean parts of his garage where he isn't working.

I feel good after a day like today. Being unselfish has its benefits after all.

The three us go to dinner at Granny's. Jiminy and I decide to take my Father out after he has worked all day. Jiminy points out we've all worked hard for a couple hours and we should all order milkshakes and I can't say no.

Today would have been the perfect day if we had left five minutes eariler. As Jiminy and I are paying the check, I look up when I hear Granny's bell ring, signaling the door's opening and see the savior storming towards me.

"Tell me it's not true," she demands angrily and puts her palms flat on the table.

I am totally confused.

"What's not true, Emma?" I say calmly, trying not to attract any more attention to us. "What are you talking about?"

I look at her face and know I'm in trouble before she opens her mouth.

"Tell me you didn't take my mother's place in the wardrobe."

* * *

A/N: See? I listen to my readers! Thanks for your spirited responses. I hope you enjoyed the chapter.


	6. Cause Either Way You Cannot Breathe

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 6: 'Cause Either Way You Cannot Breathe _

The diner has turned silent as they watch their savior make a scene. It is clear she doesn't care. I don't know if she is even aware of them, theirg ears hanging onto her every word.

And I want no part of it.

When I feel it is safe and I know she won't say any more, I rise from the table. Jiminy and my father let me go, knowing it is the right action to take. As I walk towards the door, I see her from the corner of my eye. Every step I take that furthers myself from her, a deeper shade of anger appears on her face.

I walk out of Granny's slowly, and hear her bell chime when I exit. It is colder tonight than usual. I reach the white picket fence outside and I zip my jacket up while waiting for her to follow me.

Sure enough, she does. Within seconds I hear her feet run through Granny's, the bell chime, and feet coming towards me.

"What the hell was that?" She yells, out of breath.

I turn to face her. "I could ask you the same question," I say softly.

"Are you going to run away from me every time I'm angry with you?"

"Depends," I say a little harsher. "Are you always going to cause a scene?"

"Hey," she points her index finger at me. "I have every right to be angry."

"Not. At. Me." I enunciate my words. "If you're mad about who replaced who in the wardrobe then you should yell at the people who made that decision. I. Had. No. Part. Of. It."

"This is crap!" She crosses her arms. I wait for her to yell some more, she doesn't.

"You have a right to be angry, Emma. I would be angry too if someone separated my father from me." I try to add empathy to my voice, but I don't know if it is working when she standing there, her anger bubbling at the surface yearning to come out. "It's a lot to take in. If you need to be angry, be angry. The Blue Fairy might be able to give you an explanation. Would you like to talk to her? I'm sure she can help you."

"I don't need a shrink!"

Yes, she does.

"She's not a shrink. She played a part in the decision. If you need to place blame, go talk to her." I take a deep breath. I don't know what to say. "Or, you know, take a walk." I suggest quietly.

She doesn't hear me.

"I don't need to place blame." Her voice has calmed a little. However, it is clear, looking at her body, that she's still upset.

I am confused again.

"Then what do you need?" My harsh voice has returned. I am beginning to think I am her punching bag.

I don't like it.

She pauses for moment, thinking and catching her breath.

"I need to leave." She states firmly.

What?

She turns from me in the direction of her car.

She can't be thinking what I am worried she's thinking.

"Leave? Leave Storybrooke? You can't be serious."

"Watch me." She says as she opens the door to her yellow bug.

I run to catch up with her. I take hold of her elbow and pull her violently towards me to force her to look at me.

"You can't leave every time things are hard, Emma." She begs silently for me to let go. I hold on tighter to her elbow. "What are you thinking? Where are you going?"

Her eyes turn soft as they look into mine. The soft eyes are the only feature on her face that's nice to look at right now. The rest of it is cold and enraged.

I decide not to speak until she does.

"A place only you can find me." Her words are not angry anymore, there's even a hint of softness in them. She pulls her elbow out of my grip and ducks into her car.

I let her drive off.

Damnit.

She's going to our tree.

I turn back to the diner. Of course, everyone is pressed against the glass, watching our scene passed before them. Thankfully, I don't see my Father and Jiminy. Their opinions are the only ones that matter to me.

And hers. Of course.

She assumes I will just follow her. I know I said I liked her being possessive of me, but I might want to take that back.

Still, I have to follow her. More than that, a part of me really wants to help her. I can't leave her alone when she's upset.

My feet won't move from the ground until one more second passes. I run back to my father's house, hop on my bike, and leave Storybrooke without any explanation.

The whole situation makes me uncomfortable.

Riding my bike usually calms me down. Tonight it angers me. I am annoyed that I am playing right into her hand and giving her exactly what she wants.

I park on the side of the road. I know I have to calm down before I go to her. I close my eyes and feel the wind run over my face and through my hair.

I slowly walk to our tree; careful to do it silently so she doesn't know I'm coming. I see her before she realizes I'm there. She is sitting on a fallen tree branch. I can tell instantly all her anger has left her body.

When I am close enough to her, I stop. I place my hands at my sides as I wait for her to notice me.

She is silent when she does, an apology on her face.

Still, I say, "I didn't come so you could yell at me."

"I don't want to yell at you," she whispers softly.

"Then, what do you want?" I realize I whisper too. When her anger leaves her, so does mine.

She doesn't answer right away. I've learned that's okay with her, better even.

"Our parents hate each other," she whispers to the darkness.

I blink, trying to understand her out of the blue comment. That's why she's so upset? All of her anger, and mine, is a result of something that's not even true.

I step closer to her and still whisper. "They don't hate each other."

"My parents are furious with you and your Dad," she says at her normal volume.

"So?" I see her point, but don't think it's a reason to be angry. "Let them be furious."

"They won't let me see you," she admits.

Oh. I allow her meaning to fill my heart for a spilt second. Then, I remember at least part of her comes to me to escape the rest of her life.

I don't say anything.

"I need to see you," she adds.

"Why?" I ask quickly, almost over her words. "So I can be your emotional punching bag?"

"No!" We are talking over each other. She raises her voice to quiet both of us.

Neither one of us knows what to say. We take a moment to breathe. There is an emotion I can't read on her face. It is between longing and fear.

"I'm sorry," she's back to whispering. "I never meant to make you feel that way. I come to you because," she stops mid-sentence. I can tell she's searching for the right words. "Because you are the only person in that crazy place that I trust, except for Henry. I come to you because you're the only one who endures my rants and my ridicule. You're the only who lets me be myself completely. You're the only one in our town of fairytale characters who understands me or knows what I'm going through at all."

I watch as her confession pours out of her. My mind stops at her words. She has completely flipped our situation again.

"I come to you because I need you."

Then she says something like that.

And I can't breathe.

I am still speechless. She's waiting for me to respond. Her hands are out in front of her, reaching for something she can't grasp.

I don't know what to say, but know I have to say something. She is not going to be the one to break the silence this time.

So I whisper, "Have you told your parents how you feel?"

She has a strange expression on her face, almost like she's appalled I asked. "No," she says quickly and quietly.

"Why not?" More empathy comes out of me when I see how torn she is. "Don't you think they would have a different reaction if they know how you feel?"

"I can't," she says more strongly.

"So, you're going to have a fake relationship with your parents. That sounds like a good plan."

"Hey!" Her anger face is back, but I can tell it will be temporary. "You don't get to lecture me about my parents. It's breaking rule number one."

I smile when she brings up her fake rules she wishes were real. So, I play along. "Ok," I walk closer to her. "Rule number five, all of your rules don't exist outside Storybrooke."

I cross my arms proudly, and she finally smiles.

"You have to respect my rules. I am your princess."

"Not outside Storybrooke." I point out smugly.

She finally has no comeback.

Her smile turns into a laugh when she sees my expression and my laugh shortly follows.

As we are laughing, she places her forehead on my shoulder. I wonder if her action is unconscious. When she leans on me, she stops laughing out loud but I can still feel her body shaking, still recovering from her laughing fit.

A moment of silliness is exactly what she needs. I can tell she feels better, but I still wrap my arms around her back. I know she likes it when she shifts so she's more comfortable in my arms.

I don't know how long we stay like that. I end up leaning my head against her hair as I hold her to me.

We hear an owl hoot out from a nearby tree and she releases me. She looks at me, silently asking a question and I answer it my eyes.

Then we part ways into the night.

The next day is her birthday. I wonder who else in town knows. My guess is I am one of very few people, if not the only one who knows when her birthday is. I rise extra early to leave Storybrooke so I can gather some items I know would make her day special before my Father realizes I'm gone.

I'm in Granny's Diner by six thirty that morning, putting her table together. I place the flowers on a front table, along with a cup of coffee from a store she mentioned she likes outside of town. I place the chocolate cupcake on the table last.

I order a coffee for myself and choose a seat in the back to watch her family enter the diner without being able to see me.

Sure enough, at seven-fifteen, Granny's bell rings and her family of four enters. Prince James leads them to a booth in the corner while she stares at the table I made up for her.

"Excuse me," Red Riding Hood approaches Prince James. "But you can't sit there." She tells him, indicating the booth he was about to sit in, just like I've asked her to.

"Since when does Granny's have assigned tables?"

"Well," Red smiles and points to the table I've set. "I think it's someone's birthday."

There is a bustle of excitement in the diner after Red's announcement. Henry is most excited, he jumps up and down until his mother lifts him in his arms. Prince James and Snow White quickly join Henry for a group hug.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Henry keeps repeating over and over.

I can tell the birthday girl is overwhelmed, but that's okay. Once the clamor settles, I decide it's time for me to leave.

Casually, I walk to the diner's door. When my fingers are wrapped around the handle, my instinct tells me to look back at her.

She is watching me. Her other family members are still too wound up in the news to notice.

"Happy Birthday," I mouth to her without making any noise.

The widest grin appears on her face.

"Thank you," she mouths back through her smile.

I've never seen her so happy.

My stomach turns. I realize my fingers are still wrapped around the doorknob and I haven't moved in over a minute.

I am frozen, starring at her happiness.

Then I realize what I've been denying for a long time.

I have fallen for her.

I have fallen for Emma.

* * *

A/N: My readers are amazing! Your feedback and comments are really, really helpful and I do try to include as much of it as I can in the planing and writing of my story. Thank you for being insightful and inquisitive.


	7. No Need To Pray, No Need To Speak

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 7: No Need To Pray, No Need To Speak_

Everyone in town knew it was their savior's birthday within the hour. During the morning, I hear five different locations where her party was going to take place that very night.

Father has no big reaction to the news. He insists on working in his woodshop all day. His avoidance of the issue, not pressing me for details gave me new appreciation for him. He knows without asking that I don't want to talk about it.

By noon, formal invitations are hand delivered by Snow White. She walks uncomfortably to our garage to where Father, Jiminy, and myself are talking while Father works. Before she opens her mouth I can tell she had reservations about coming to visit.

I stand up from my stool when I see her. It's clear she came only for me. Anyone in watching the garage could tell there is bad blood between Snow White, Jiminy, and Father. No one says anything for a moment. I attempt to make the situation easier by meeting her at the edge of the garage.

"Hello," she tries to smile warmly.

"Hello."

We walk out of hearing distance from the garage. There's an awkward pause after we stand a casual distance apart from each other.

"So," she fumbles around in her purse to find something. "I came here to ask you if you would please come to Emma's birthday party tonight." Snow White puts an invitation into my hand.

I look down at the invitation and then back at her. "Are you sure I should come? I don't want to cause a problem."

"I'm pretty sure my family has you to thank for informing us today is her birthday." She has a knowing look in her eyes that makes me want to shrink a thousand times smaller. "I wouldn't have wanted to miss this day for the world."

I shrug. "That doesn't mean I should be there. I know your family is pretty upset at me." I pause. "And they have every right to be."

Snow White is torn as to what to say. I can tell she was hoping the topic wouldn't come up.

"I know there's a lot of water under that bridge. Working things out or hearing explanations is not productive right now. I'm not here to pick fights or make amends."

"Then, why are you here?"

"I'm here for my daughter," Snow White says with pride. "It's her birthday – not yours or mine." She takes a deep breath and speaks quickly. "I mean this whole party is more for us than for her. I don't like to say that, but it's true. It's going to be filled with our friends, not hers. It's really important Emma has her good friend at the party."

Her. Good. Friend.

"Plus," she continues talking quickly. "There'll be some many people there, he won't even notice you."

He, meaning her husband and Emma's father, the man who will never accept me.

She still senses my hesitation, so she adds "Emma wants you there."

I look at her and know Emma didn't say anything. Her mother just knew.

"Okay." I finally whisper.

Snow While's closed lips form a wide smile. She puts the invitation back into my hand. "Thank you," she says. She looks at me with approval and gratitude before leaving silently.

"What did she want?" Father asks me when I reenter the garage. "Is everything okay?"

The concern in his voice for makes me wonder how I survived the last 29 years without him.

"Yeah," I reassure him. "She just wanted to invite me to Emma's party tonight."

"Really?" Jiminy asks with a smile, reaching for the invitation. "That's great!"

Father stops his work so he can focus on me. "Are you going to go?"

"She seemed pretty insistent I go, but," I take a deep breath. "I won't go if you don't want me to."

Father breaks into a smile. "No. Why wouldn't I want you to go?"

"You seem worried."

"No," he lies. "You should go. I want you to go."

"It's formal dress," Jiminy reads from the invitation.

Great.

I try to hide my disappointment at the information. Father and Jiminy laugh.

"I have a suit you can borrow, Pinocchio," Father offers.

"You should have fun," Jiminy hands back the invitation. "I'm a little jealous."

I give him an exasperation look. He laughs again.

"This is perfect, actually," Father tells us.

"Why?" I furrow my eyebrows, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm almost finished," he announces with delight.

"With what?" Jiminy and I ask together.

Father motions behind his back, "With Emma's present."

Excitement fuels within me as I walk towards Father's work desk. My heart stops when I see what he's made.

In the center of the carved cuckoo clock, is the exact replica of Snow White's castle that my father must have carved from memory. Each hour a wooden swan comes out of the highest tower, spreading it wings over the castle, protecting it from harm. I look to the bottom of his creation to find a wooden puppet chasing a young girl trying to catch her in his arms, but never can.

"Wow," is all I can say.

"Do you like it, Pinocchio?" Father asks, his voice itching for approval.

"It's incredible," I say, still starring at it, watching the puppet and the girl run around the castle in circles. I turn back to Father. "I absolutely love it."

"I'm so glad," He says with pride.

"Emma will love it," I tell him and his grin widens.

"You think?"

"I know," I say with confidence.

"I still have some paint touches here and there." He points to some spots on the clock that seem just fine to me. "What time is the party?"

"Seven," Jiminy informs us.

"Oh, good." Father bends down to examine a corner of the castle. "That's just enough time to finish painting and let it dry."

"You know it's perfect already, right?"

My father's eyes appear above the castle, love and laughter are in them. "Thank you," he says sincerely.

"Well," Jiminy hands the invitation back to me. "At least now you don't have to worry about a present."

I turn to Jiminy, take the invitation, and can't help saying, "No, there's just a thousand other things to worry about."

"You'll be fine, Pinocchio," Jiminy reassures me.

I look down at the invitation.

Apparently the party is at City Hall. Somehow, Emma and her family have taken over it from Regina. I wonder how, but then I'm glad I wasn't included in that fight. I realize her party is also a way to celebrate the curse breaking; the townspeople haven't had a formal gathering together yet.

It is only after my realization when I feel absolutely horrible Father and Jiminy were not invited.

I look over at them, chatting up a storm as Father finishes Emma's gift. They are perfectly happy if they have each other.

Even though the party starts at seven, I leave Father's house at eight. Dressed in his suit with Emma's present under my arm, I walk towards City Hall. At home, parties or balls started right on time, if not early. For that reason, I'm glad to be late. It will be easier to hide if there are more people there.

Sure enough, the whole building is buzzing when I arrive. Lights are everywhere; party lights, spotlights, and decorative lights are hanging inside and outside the building. Music rattles the windows and food is lures any passers-by inside.

I hardly make it pass the doorway, put Emma's present on a table, when I feel strong hands on my forearms.

"Where have you been?" An angry voice demands.

I can't see her face due to the crowd of people still entering, but know her voice. "Emma?"

"You're late."

"Gee, sorry," I smile and start my mocking voice. "I didn't realize you needed protecting at your own birthday party."

"This isn't about protecting." Emma drags me further down the building, to a hidden corner where she thinks we can hide. "I thought we agreed upon that yesterday."

The moonlight shines through the window and I can see her clearly for the first time.

She looks incredible.

Her ankle length purple dress clings to every curve of her body. Her hair is done up in a braided bun surrounded by a diamond tiara. She is wearing a little makeup, just enough to highlight her facial features. He neckline is bare; a diamond bracelet encircles her left wrist.

"What is it about, then?" I barely can offer my retort. I can't stop memorizing her.

"I don't know," she says quickly. "How I can't stand balls."

"Well, you're not going to make a good princess then."

Her eyes pop out at me. "Not helping."

"Okay, well," I start, trying not to stumble over my words as I stare at her, searching for way to help her. "You're absolutely beautiful," I whisper.

She meets my eyes and we're back where we were last night, asking each other silent questions we wouldn't dare to speak.

She moves closer to me. "Thank you," she whispers softly.

"Do you want to dance?" The words roll out of me before I know what I'm saying.

"No," she says automatically. "I want to hide."

I smile. "Good plan at your own birthday party."

"It's working now, isn't it?" She says smugly.

"Yeah, but," I turn so she can see how the rooms are filling with people. "Someone is going to find you eventually." I pause, wondering if I should add the obvious. "Plus it's your birthday, you are expected to be at least seen."

"Good point," she says, rushing for another plan. "Want to dance?"

I roll my eyes at her.

"Maybe I can hide in the crowd." She gives a feeble explanation.

"Not with those diamonds."

She smiles and reaches for my hand. I follow.

Emma slowly leads me inside the dancing crowd. Part of me thinks dancing together is a bad idea. The more people who see us together, the more trouble we could cause.

The instrumental music turns to a slower tune. I place my free hand on the small of Emma's back, and we dance only the steps we know. I try to remember steps Father taught me when I was a boy, and then wonder how Emma knows any of these fairytale land steps.

"How do you know this dance?" I ask in her ear.

"My father taught it to me this morning." She turns her face closer to mine. "Plus I had to dance with every royal here for an hour before you showed up."

I smile, spin her out, and then bring her closer to me.

"Everything is my fault, just like usual," I say lightly.

"Just like usual," she mocks my tone.

I think about her previous words.

"You had to dance with every royal here for a hour?"

"A hour and five minutes," she corrects me.

"No wonder you wanted to hide."

"And why I can't stand balls," she adds.

"Right."

I spin her out and in again. I marvel at how she floats on the floor while she's dancing. Emma was definitely born to be a princess. Her purple dress swirls around her ankles as she twirls in and out of my arms. I know I'm not a good enough dancer to be seen with her.

"You want to get out of here?" I offer.

A wide grin breaks out on her face.

"I thought you would never ask."

We hold hands tightly as we make our way through the crowd. We are looking back at the crowd constantly to see if anyone is watching us. Quietly, Emma pulls the front door open and we slid out, unnoticed.

Silently she leads me to her yellow bug, which is parked in the full parking lot to the side of City Hall. I break from her to climb into the passenger's seat.

Both of us know where we're going without having to talk about it. I turn to smile at her when we reach the 'leaving Storybrooke' sign to see her already smiling at me.

Emma parks on the side of the road. She leaves the car without acknowledging me, knowing I will follow.

I need a moment to regroup again, though for different reasons than last night. When I am ready, I slowly leave her car and follow her.

She is sitting on the same fallen tree branch, her dress sprawled around her, waiting for me. I feel my lips turn up when I approach her.

"You know, I should be really mad at you."

I roll my eyes. "Really? What did I do this time, apart from being late to your party?"

"It's your fault the whole town knows it's my birthday."

I walk closer to her, our legs almost touching, "Everything's my fault, remember?"

"I couldn't go anywhere without people saying happy birthday."

"And, that's a crime how?"

"I was on emotional overload all day," I run my hands lightly through her hair. Emma's eyes softly look at me and I know it's comforting to her. "And these days that's pretty typical, but today it was nonstop without a break. I felt like I was going to explode."

"Why?" I ask softly.

Emma takes a deep breath, moves even closer to me, and then looks deeper into my eyes than ever before. "Because no one has ever remembered my birthday before," she whispers into my mouth and looks at me with longing.

Before I know it, my head is turning and my lips are closing whatever distance is left between us.

* * *

A/N: There are two reasons I'm evil. 1) I left you with that cliffhanger and 2) I didn't update for four whole days! :0 I'm doing my best to update as quickly as possible. xoxo


	8. Now I Am Under

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 8: Now I Am Under_

Oh. My. God.

I've never experienced a kiss like Emma's.

Emma responds to my kiss slowly. Her lips start to move against mine when she realizes what I just did. I try to keep myself grounded as our lips find their rhythm with each other. I feel her arms on my chest, moving up to reach around my neck, pulling us closer together.

She is going to kill me.

I respond by moving my hands behind her and taking hold of the small of her back.

With each kiss, something ignites within me. My synapses turn to fire and burn.

Emma moves her hands from my neck to cradle my face. My hands move higher up her back in response.

Her thumbs move across my checks twice and I know she is going to pull away. I release my grip on her back and allow her room to step back.

She doesn't. When our kiss ends, she leans her forehead into mine. I met her forehead with my own. I close my eyes again when I notice she hasn't opened her eyes since I touched her lips.

"Pinocchio," she whispers. A smile breaks on my face.

My synapses might be firing faster than ever, but I am pretty sure my brain has stop functioning at her use of my real name.

"What are you doing to me?" She asks breathlessly.

My eyes open to her beautiful hazel eyes are looking straight into mine.

What am I doing to her? What the hell is she doing to me?

My breaths come out quickly, trying to recover from what just happened. My hands move from my sides to her bare shoulders. I'm grateful I have something to brace myself with.

I can't answer her question. The only response I can offer is to kiss her again.

So, I do.

My hands move from her shoulders up her neck to rest on her checks as I lean in, closing the distance between us once more.

Emma puts her arms around my back tightly as she kisses me. I am not sure how I'm still standing. I softly hold her checks in the palms of my hands.

Despite my grip, or maybe because of it, Emma suddenly breaks our kiss, steps back, and pulls out of my arms.

I'm afraid to open my eyes to her angry face. Still, after a moment, I do.

She's not angry.

She's scared.

We are feet away from each. Somehow, we have switched places. I now have my back to the fallen tree and she is facing me, breathing heavily.

I see her chest moving up and down and then I know I am trying to catch my breathe as well, though that's the last thought on my mind.

All I can think about is my need to kiss her again. Her kisses are like breathing heaven into my lungs, igniting me with new energy.

Nothing in this world has ever come close to making me feel the way her kisses do.

We aren't looking at each other now. I step back and slowly fall to sit on the tree below me. As I do, I see Emma moving towards me.

She stops when we are a foot away from each other.

I'm glad I am sitting down. I place my hands on the tree's bark as I look up and down her.

Emma is wondrous. Some of her hair has come out her bun. The strands curl as the fall around her head. Her dress has lost its perfect form, now ruffed in places from my arms around her. Even though her dress flows down and ends before her ankles, dirt somehow crept up and found home at the end seem.

She is searching me to make eye contact with her. I don't want to.

Emma steps forward one more step closer to me. I finally meet her eyes.

"I. Can't." She speaks clearly.

I hear her words, but don't know what to say.

"I want to," she admits. My heart stops at her confession. "But. I. Can't."

She is begging for my understanding.

"Because of your parents?" I whisper.

"Yes," she says automatically. Then, she takes a moment to think. "No. No, this has nothing to do with them."

I stand up and walk to her. "Then," I say. "What is it?"

Emma's upset now. She doesn't want to answer. The last thing I want to do is cause her pain. I realize now I am probably being overly selfish.

"Pinocchio," Emma whispers my name again and I am weak at the knees. "I am holding on by threads of string right now." Tears start flowing down her face and I feel terrible. "If I add anything more to my plate, I'm going to crack. I don't know how to be a mother! I don't know how to be a daughter! I can't make anything work with you without disappointing you as well."

"You could never disappoint -"

"Yes I could!" She cries. "And I can't bare to do that. I need you by my side, with me, whenever something crazy happens. I need to be able to come to you or come here when life is too much for me. If we start this, whatever this is," she motions between us. "It will be a disaster! I will either be running to you or away from you, and I know that's not what you want."

Her tears are stained on her cheeks. Her hair is falling faster out of her braid. Her tiara is loosening its clasp on her head.

And Emma still looks absolutely beautiful.

"I'm sorry," she says.

My hands reach for her and run up and down her sides to comfort her. She shouldn't be apologizing. If anything, I should be the one to apologize. I pushed her too far. Emma had told she was already emotionally over the edge and I pushed her.

"Hey, I'm sorry too." I rest my hands on shoulders. She takes my action as an opening and goes fully into my arms for an embrace.

Emma's head rests on my shoulder. Her arms are around my back again. I hold her to me, thankful she isn't crying.

"Thank you," she whispers in my ear.

For what? I am the one who completely messed everything up. I am the selfish one.

I don't respond to her comment. She still holds on to me as oxygen she needs to breath.

"Hey," I start slowly and softly. "We need to go."

Emma pulls back at my words. She looks at me, silently asking why I just said that. I keep a warm smile on my face. I motion to the car with my head.

She stays frozen where she is, trying to figure me out.

There is nothing to figure out. I am respecting her wishes and don't want to be here anymore.

"Come on," I say more loudly but still with smile. "They are going to kill us when they find out we're gone."

I take a step towards her car. She doesn't move. When I offer my hand out to her she smiles and takes it. I lead her to the car.

Emma hands me her keys and we agree I should drive without speaking.

The drive back to Storybrooke is silent. Whenever I look over at her she is off in another world, starring out the window into space. I wonder what she's thinking about, but then I decide I shouldn't look at her anymore.

"Shoot," she says out loud as we past the Storybrooke sign.

I turn to her; she has her phone in her hands and is looking down at it.

"What happened?" I ask with my eyes back on the road.

"Ten missed calls," she informs me.

Shit.

I stop the car safely on the side of the road, hoping we can figure out some sort of plan.

"No!" She demands. "Keep driving!"

"Where am I going?" I turn the car back on the road. "Do you really think showing up at your party like this is a good idea?"

"We don't have a choice."

We are in so much trouble. I am in so much trouble. I am starting to regret this whole night. But how can I regret any moment of tonight?

I try to take a deep breath to calm myself down and prepare for the worst. It doesn't work.

"How does showing up at your party together make any sense?"

"We're not showing up together! You are going to drop me off and then going to hide."

I don't like her plan. I do like it much more than showing up together though.

Is that selfish?

It is.

Damnit.

"I can't let you go in there alone," I offer.

She looks at me like I'm crazy. "Yes, you can, because if you don't you are going to be eaten alive. First by Henry, then by my mother, and then my father will enjoy finishing you off."

I approach City Hall from the back entrance. She opens the door before I have fully parked.

"Emma!" I hear her father yell.

We are so screwed.

Emma turns back at me for a spilt second. "Go!"

I should go, but I can't.

"Where have you been?" Prince James yells again as he walks down the back steps to meet his daughter.

"I just went to get some air after all that dancing," Emma lies flawlessly. Now, I have an idea of what she was thinking about in the car. "And I lost track of time. I'm sorry I didn't realize I was gone that long."

Emma and Prince James continue to walk towards each other. When they are in arms' distance of each other, Prince James cups Emma's face in his hands. He searches the rest of her to make sure she's in one piece.

As his eyes scan his daughter, they manage to stop when they see her car behind her. He looks into the car and sees me. We make eye contact.

Leave. Always leave. Why couldn't I just leave? Emma told me to go, why couldn't I listen to her?

Prince James releases Emma and starts walking towards me.

"What are you doing here?" His voice is sterner with every step he takes.

"No, wait." Emma runs to her father and places her hands on his arms, begging him to stand still, "Stop."

Prince James turns at his daughter's touch. His face is calmer after he looks at her, but his voice remains at the same tone. "What is he doing here? Were you with him?"

"Please," Emma begs him. "Stop."

He ignores her and turns back to me.

"I told you to stay away from my daughter," he tells me angrily.

Emma freezes when she hears her father's words.

There is a moment when none of us speak. I watch Emma process her father words, her body growing tenser with each second.

"What?" Her head switches between her father and me.

Emma decides to address me first. I wonder if she trusts me more or if she wants to avoid a fight with her father.

"You lied to me? You talked to him?" I can hear her feeling of betrayal in her voice. "I trusted you!"

I didn't lie to her and I would never betray her.

"Emma, wait." I push my way out of the car and run around it to her. "He came to me."

"And that makes it better?" She starts to raise her voice. "How could you not tell me that?"

Prince James puts his hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "He's a selfish liar, Emma, that's why."

She shrugs his hand off and looks at me for an explanation.

I meet her eyes and say softly, "You already knew he didn't want us spending time together. Why would I add fuel to that fire?"

"You talked about this?" Prince James asks, outraged.

Emma ignores her father again.

"I didn't know he talked to you! No wonder you didn't say anything when I told you. You just let me go on and on." Her voice is still raised as she calls me out in front of her father. "Letting me say all those things you wanted to hear!"

Wow. Anger boils through my veins at her accusations.

Our chests are heaving in rhythm again, though now out of anger not passion. She is waiting for another answer or explanation I don't want to give and she doesn't actually want to hear.

I reach for her hand softy, she allows me to touch her despite her anger. I open her palm and place her keys between her fingers.

"Goodbye, Emma." I whisper. I squeeze her hand as I look at her. Even though her body is tense with rage, her eyes are begging me to stay.

Emma doesn't say anything as I release her and step back. Her father is stunned at our interaction, standing behind her, not understanding any of it, and not knowing what to say. She turns one way and I turn the other.

We walk in opposite directions away from each other and from him into the cover of darkness.

* * *

A/N: Maybe they'll work it out next chapter, maybe they won't. I mean do lies of omission really count as lies? Thank so much to my readers and reviewers. I honored readers are having such a passionate response to my story.


	9. And It's Breaking Over Me

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 9: And It's Breaking Over Me_

I don't know what to do without Emma. My life has been about her: protecting her, guiding her, marveling her for weeks, if not for months.

And now?

I haven't talked to her for a week.

Other than her father coming to talk to me the morning after her birthday, I have had no knowledge of her whereabouts or how she is doing.

This is how our conversation happened:

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Prince James walked angrily into my Father's garage that morning, where thankfully I was alone.

I stood up. "I am sorry about last night. We really didn't mean to be gone that long."

Prince James stepped closer to me, meaning to tower over me. His eyes turn into slits. "You didn't mean to be gone that long?"

I regretted my choice of words.

"No! No, I meant we shouldn't have left at all! When I saw how overwhelmed Emma was, I should have found a different way to comfort her."

"You shouldn't have comforted her at all! That's not your job! You shouldn't have been there at all."

"It was her birthday party!" I fought back. "Your wife wanted Emma to have her one, close friend there. She was right; I should have been there. Emma wanted me there. It was her birthday, it wasn't about you or your wishes!"

"It wasn't about yours either!" He yelled to silence me. "You better watch your mouth, young man. You have to respect me and my rules. I am your Royal Prince."

I couldn't help smiling at his little speech.

His anger actually made his face red. His voice was almost sinister. "You think this is funny?"

"No," A small laugh escaped my mouth. "It's just you sound exactly like your daughter."

For a moment, pride filled his face. I smiled again and his stern look returned. "Emma would never say something like that."

"Oh, yes she would!" I took a deep breath. "I guess you don't know her that well. She just said those exact words to me the other day."

"You weren't respecting her rules?" His eyebrows rose.

I suddenly regretted telling him anything.

"No, she was just blowing off steam actually."

"Blowing off steam?" His voice did go higher in a form of a question, but it also managed to turn even stricter.

I swallowed before speaking. "Do you know how much pressure she feels from everything right now?" I was hoping to give him insight into his daughter, but he doesn't see my words as a chance to reach out.

Instead, he saw them as further proof of my wrongdoing. He stepped closer to me, forcing me against the sidewall of the garage. "You've been putting pressure on my daughter?"

I put my hands up in innocence. "No! Of course not! That's not what I meant."

"You promised to stay away from my daughter." He said in my face.

"Yes, but as I recall, we told you she needs a support system. Having a family after 29 years is a huge adjustment for her." I tried to find a path out so my back wouldn't be pined against the wall, but his body was completely blocking mine on all sides. "Besides, why do you even care? She made it pretty clear last night she didn't want to see me anymore."

He ignored my words.

"So, are your promises always worthless because you're Pinocchio?" He accused me and then added, "You are always going to be untrustworthy, huh? You are always going to play people?"

His words are directed to slice up my heart.

For a moment I don't know how to respond, then I tried the one angle I haven't tried yet. "Yeah, that's right," I said louder and more quickly. "I'm the selfish liar who can't keep his promises. I was trying to help and comfort Emma for my own motives. It had nothing to do with trying to make her happy and help her transition into a family she is trying like hell to make a good impression with. No, I am the evil guy in her life that helps her take a breather from parties when they overwhelm her."

"You little-" Prince James started.

I moved my face in closer to his, forcing him to shut up. I enunciated my parting to him words again. "Get. Out."

His back was the last I saw of the Charming Family for a week.

I'm sure I'd see them around town if I acted like a regular citizen in Storybrooke. I'd run into them at Granny's or on the streets at one point or another. However, during the next week, I pretty much stay home and keep to myself. If I wanted to see Emma, I could. After that night, I don't have a driving desire to do so.

After two days, I realize I always will have some desire to see Emma.

But life goes on and is easier with time. Father and Jiminy are always good company. I spend most of my time with them. Father's shop is busier the more time people have to adjust to the lives. I catch up with most townspeople that way. The majority of people I talk to still have no idea who I am. There are some who, I think, have figured it out. I am thankful they haven't said anything.

Rumpelstiltskin is happier than usual. He tries to hide it. I decide to go along with it because I am thankful he still calls me August. I have no idea why he would protect my identity. Sometimes, I think he doesn't question my wishes because I don't question his new behavior. But I don't think he would do something like that. Anyway, he comes in with new woodcarving requests for Father to complete every couple days. I watch their interactions from the corner of the shop while I'm doing paperwork or fixing something for a customer. I am happy he always compliments Father's work.

I try to make connections with other people in town. I have a harder time bonding with them than people I've met outside Storybrooke. I don't know why. It might be because people from home don't know who I am and they look at me like I'm an outsider here or it might be easier for me to act like somebody else with people that shouldn't know who I am.

It is for that reason, I choose to keep to myself. When I'm not working in Father's shop or socializing with him and Jiminy, I like to stay in the house – my room mostly. It worries Father. It shouldn't. I keep working on my writing, typing out pages by the hour. Writing doesn't make me as happy as it used to. Still, it is something to keep my mind off of Emma.

And it's nice.

Although, there are time I can't do anything to remove Emma from my head. I have to stop writing completely after I realize I have been thinking about her for five minutes without even noticing. Sometimes, I can hear words she's spoken to me. I try to forget the harsh ones, while the brutally honest, sweet words replay in my head nonstop. Sometimes, I can feel her lips on mine. While I can't remember the exact magical feeling her kisses gave me, I know their magic was some rare form I could never imagine before. Sometimes, just the image of Emma in her purple dress and her tiara is enough to take my breath away.

Sometimes, I can do nothing but think about her for hours.

And that's what I am doing when I see her leaning against my doorway.

The chair I was laying back in breaks and I fall out of it.

She smiles.

I know she is laughing at me in her head.

I stand up from the floor.

Her smile widens.

Great.

Now we are facing each other; I am mortified.

"You would think your Father's chairs would be a little more reliable than that," are the first words she says to me.

Her words break some tension in the room.

"What would you say if I told you this chair is not one of my Father's creations?"

Emma plays along. "Well, I would say that would make sense. The Evil Queen wouldn't want her victims to have their nice, reliable chairs here in Storybrooke."

I finally smile and we stare into each other's eyes for a moment.

Her accusations of our last conversation are ringing in my ears. I can't make them stop and I can't hold in my words any longer. "Your father came to see me," I blurt out.

Her smile holds. "I know. And I'm sorry for whatever he said."

Once again, her response has caught me by surprise and I can't breath.

Damnit.

There is an awkward silence in my room when neither of us knows what to say. I look at her without meeting her eyes.

While she looked wondrous in her purple dress and tiara, there's something about her in jeans, a t-shirt, and her hair lively with curls that also pulls my heartstrings.

"What are you doing here?" I break the silence.

"Your Father let me up," she whispers.

That's not exactly answering my question.

I wait for her to speak, just like I've learned how.

"I came to apologize," she says forwardly.

"Emma," I say her name as a warning.

She steps further into my room. "Not for being mad or for yelling at you."

I furrow my eyebrows, confused. "Then for what?"

"For asking you to be more than you are," she whispers sweetly.

I feel my eyes widen at her insinuation.

"And that's not fair to you," she continues in the same tone.

Now, I feel anger starting to boil inside of me.

She really thinks that little of me that she expects me to be an untrustworthy liar all of the time?

"I want to help you."

Her insults turn harsher and harsher. Can she not tell how insulted I am by the look on her face?

"Help me?" I question her with an edge.

"Yeah, it's my job as the savior. Just like I'm helping Grumpy become more optimistic."

I step closer to her. "Emma!" I say sharply. "Your job as the savior is to break the curse and bring people home. Not to change who they are!"

"Yeah, but-"

"You've seen the Disney version of Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"You know how Grumpy is always everyone's favorite dwarf-"

"-Dopey was always my favorite."

I look at her for a second like she's crazy.

"Imagine if Grumpy – or Dopey," I roll my eyes at her insistence I include the other one as well. "Wasn't pessimistic or woozy anymore. Then nobody would like the film."

"They might like the film-"

I have never been frustrated at our little rants, but I am now.

"Emma!" I started again. "Just because Pinocchio is a liar doesn't mean I have to be."

She looks at me with confusion. "Right. You don't have to lie, but you do anyways."

"Emma!" This time I raise my voice. "I am not a liar. The story is a moral tale for children about lying. It covers about 24 hours of my life."

She doesn't respond for a second. I take the opportunity to say what has been bothering me.

"Do you really think of me as a selfish liar?"

After all the time we've spent together, how could she?

"Of course not," she whispers.

"Okay," my voice becomes softer. "Then what is all this crap about trying to help me?"

"You lied to me." She says, meeting my eyes.

"I didn't lie to you, Emma. I just didn't tell about a conversation I had. That's not the same thing."

"I can't be with someone who is a liar," she announces.

Wait. Now, we're back at this conversation again? I thought we couldn't be together because she was about to snap in half from changes in her life.

And, on second thought, she is still referring to me as a liar.

I cross my arms on my chest. "You're right, you can't be with a liar. You can't be with anyone, Emma, because you don't accept people the way they are. You don't trust anyone: that's who you are, and I accepted that about you until now. Because now I realize, you're fighting yourself. You say you trust me more than anyone, but then blow up at me when I don't tell about a private conversation I had, citing me as I a liar. You have so many walls up in your life that you can't even trust yourself."

"Myself?" She interrupts angrily.

"Yeah, the voice inside your head, telling you how great I am for you and how great we would be together. The same voice that keeps you running back to me for help and support because you know I'll be there for you. If I had actually lied to you, you would know it because you can tell when people are lying to you. That's another reason why we'd be great together." My speech makes her angrier by the word and I watch her breathing sped up. "But you refuse to see all of that. All you see are reasons – or the one fake reason – why you think you can't be with me, because you're scared shitless."

"I am not scared-" She starts to argue, but I cut her off.

"You are!" I turn my body so I am now closest to the door. "And believe me, that is the only quality I like about you right now," I say and turn my back on her, walking out my door.

I run down the stairs to my bike before she knows what hit her.

I am out the driveway as Emma runs to the yard, looking to where I went.

* * *

A/N: More and more drama! It is going somewhere and will pay off, but I don't need to tell you guys that, I'm sure my readers know the payoff is coming... eventually. Again, I know this update took longer than usual. My life is pretty full these days, and when I add trying to update two different fanfictions at once, it all adds up. Special shout outs to each reviewer, you guys are so awesome and I love you too!


	10. A Thousand Miles Onto The Sea Bed

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 10: A Thousand Miles Onto The Sea Bed_

It is a strange feeling when you driving with such determination, but have no idea where you are going.

That is the feeling I had, driving away from my house. My hands grip the handlebars with anger, sweat drips from my forehead, and my head can't focus on the road in front of me.

All I can focus on is our last conversation.

And that's when I realize I'm not mad at her.

I'm mad at myself.

Which, by the way, is so much worse. Emma is easy to be mad at, I am happy being mad at Emma any time she asks for it – and she does, most of the time. I am not saying I shouldn't be angry at her, part of me is still angry; how dare she think she can change who I am in order for her to feel safe.

To feel safe.

That's why I mad at myself.

After giving Emma so much grief for not trusting herself, I realize I am a hypocrite.

I'm the one whose scared shitless.

Damnit.

My realization that I don't trust myself with her and then my next realization that I am as scared as her forces me to bring my motorcycle to an ungraceful halt.

Only when my motorcycle stops do I know where I am.

Of course my unconscious brings me here.

To our tree.

Now, memories come to me as I stare at our spot in the woods. I realize our relationship has become so bipolar – one minute we're reading each other's minds, predicting what the other will say and the next we…couldn't be angrier at each other.

I am still starring at our spot, deciding what to do. If I go into those woods, does that mean I want Emma to find me? I'm not sure if I wanted Emma to follow me. I mean, I left for a reason, right? If I wanted to be with Emma I would have stayed with her in my room.

If I wanted to be with Emma…

Since when did my life or my relationship with her revolve around our romantic status? That's not what it should be about. We are still fighting a war, right? I look back on the last week and a half and no memories come to me about her talking about Regina or the curse or how to go home.

Wow, how selfish am I?

We are supposed to be a team: The savior and her protector. Romantic couple or not, I make a note to myself that I should be more supportive in that area of her life, instead of putting pressure on her with regards to anything concerning our relationship.

Putting pressure on her.

I have been doing that, haven't I? I know I denied it to her father, but now I think I was actually lying to myself. I have been putting pressure on her. My back looses some of its posture and curves inward, I feel terrible. The last thing I ever wanted to do was put any pressure on her.

Another light bulb goes off in my head. Without thinking about it, I am off my bike and walking down to our spot. Am I now making excuses why we can't be together just like she is or are my concerns valid? I don't know anymore.

All I know is I can't let our relationship go on the way it is going. I am not happy and after our last conversation, I know she isn't either.

I hear a stick cracking in the distance and I know Emma is here. When I feel some of the stress leaving my body, I know I have made the right decision in coming here.

And I am not leaving until we come to a mutual decision on our relationship.

I am leaning against the fallen tree when Emma comes into sight. Her frustration and stress have left her as well.

My heart skips as I think of the possibilities that could happen.

I shouldn't get my hopes up, she still doesn't accept who I am. And I shouldn't be with someone who can't do that.

We make eye contact, and she puts her hands in her back pockets. Her hair is perfectly curled, wind wrinkles her green t-shirt, and her jeans hug her legs tightly.

"Hi," she offers softly.

I smile, but I don't offer a greeting of my own. She judges my silence as a reason to step closer.

"I'm sorry," she says sincerely.

I nod simply, putting my hands in my lap.

"I wanted to tell you that you were right."

I look up at her. "About what?"

"About everything," she says softly. "Especially the part about me being scared."

"Okay," is all I know to say in that moment.

She steps even closer, our legs coming in contact. She raises her eyebrows for emphasis. "I am scared."

I watch her. She's clearly nervous. Her hands are never still. One second, her fingers are twirling around one another, the next her arms are crossed. For a second, she puts them on my thighs, but quickly lifts them away.

"And I do trust you." Emma takes a deep breath. "I don't trust myself, but I trust you."

Is that even possible? To trust someone else without trusting yourself first?

I take her words as an opening to talk about my concerns.

"Yeah, but Emma, I am Pinocchio," I stat the obvious. "Pinocchio, the character who lies, is untrustworthy, and – even though he tries really hard – fails everyone he cares about." I inhale and exhale. "And that's never going to change."

"I know. But, here's the thing," she's smiling suddenly, I don't know why. "You always were Pinocchio."

What?

She can tell I'm confused, it widens her smile. "I trusted you before I knew who you were. If that's not trust, I don't know what is. You never failed me and you never could." She gives me an opportunity to talk, I don't. "And that's why I know you're right about the other thing."

"What other thing?" I whisper, caught in her eyes.

"I was making excuses to why we couldn't be together. I was listing them off in my head, and they would fill my thoughts whenever I had reason to be mad at you. I was fighting myself. I was torn between pleasing my parents and pleasing myself. I was torn between my heart and my head and I was taking it out on you."

Torn between her heart and her head. That sounds exactly like the place I am in right now.

And, this time, my head needs to win if my heart is going to have any chance at all.

"I put pressure on you," I admit.

"No, you didn't!" Emma cries, trying to reassure me. She rests her hands on my thighs and I have trouble breathing. "And, if you did, I'm glad you did."

I don't need to say anything: she knows I'm confused again.

"You can't let me get away with crap. I don't want to with you. That's part of the reason I'm so scared. In other parts of my life, with my parents, with my role as the savior? Yes, I need a break once and a while. But, I don't need one with you and I don't want one."

Her brain must be exhausted. She processed a lot during her car ride out of Storybrooke.

"Emma," I warn her from going too far.

"Pinocchio." Emma takes my hands in hers. "I'm scared." She says clearly. Her eyes search mine, challenging them. "Are you?"

My heart stops. My breath catches in my throat.

I nod.

And then her lips are on mine.

I die every time we kiss.

We hold on to each other, our fingers holding the other's hands tightly. Her hands release mine after several wonderful moments, and reach up to my face. My arms encircle her back, and I bring us closer together.

My lungs are fuller, my body is lighter, and my bones are stronger whenever our lips are touching. There's no feeling like it in the world.

I could kiss her forever and never need anything else.

Still, I am the one who pulls back.

We look at each other. I smile then she does. Emma leans in again.

I pull back, not letting her lips brush mine.

Her eyebrows furrow. "What's wrong?" she asks innocently.

"What are we doing, Emma?" I whisper. My fingers go up and down her bare arms.

She smiles, "What does it look like we're doing?" She says and leans in to kiss me.

I lean in too and meet her lips. This time our kisses are short and sweet, one after another. My hands are in her hair, hers are on my shoulders.

"Emma," I manage between kisses.

"Oh, come on," she smiles before our lips capture each other's again.

I know we need to figure things out eventually. I did promise I wouldn't leave until we figured out everything. But I forgot how addicting her kisses are.

It's a problem.

Somehow, we move from short, sweet kisses to long, passionate ones. I feel her body pressing against mine, fitting perfectly in my arms. From her hair, my hands move to her checks. My thumb goes back and forth against her right check and then I pull away.

Since I still am against the fallen tree, I move to side of it before Emma manages to open her eyes. For a spilt second, she doesn't know where I am.

"What are we doing?" I say louder and clearer.

Emma stares at me blankly. She crosses her arms. "I thought this is what you wanted."

"It is!"

"Then, what's the problem?" She asks lightly.

But this isn't a light problem. Her parents hate me. She has a curse to fully break and happy endings to restore. We are making out in a place where nobody could find us, but if they could, whatever is going on between us would be out in the town within seconds. I am supposed to be protecting her, not romancing her.

Yet, here we are.

She is looking at me like I'm crazy.

How could she not know what the problem is?

"What are we going to do about this situation?"

"This situation?" She steps closer to me, I step back. Talking is important right now. "You mean my parents?"

Her innocence, beautiful face is so kissable right now.

Talking is important; I keep having to remind myself.

"Your parents," I start. "My father, the curse, all the townspeople, your son, your role as savior," I list quickly. "The fact that you and me are not even supposed to be outside Storybrooke right now."

With every item I list, I become more and more unsettled. She just smiles.

"We are outside Storybrooke because this is our happy, non-worrisome place."

I note the irony that this place started off being just the opposite.

"Are we seriously not going to talk about this?"

"What's to talk about?" She is trying so hard to not raise her voice. "I trust you. You trust me, right?"

Do I trust her?

"Most of the time," I answer honestly.

She acts hurt, but then smiles. "Then we'll be fine!"

"What about inside Storybrooke?" I can't help bringing up.

She still talks with a light tone. "We didn't have much trouble hiding our relationship before."

"That's because we were fighting half the time," I state.

"We were not!" She steps closes to me and puts her arms around my waist.

They feel so good.

"Right. We don't fight." My arms wrap around her lower back. "We bicker."

Emma nods and smiles, her face coming close to mine. "We bicker," She kisses me quickly. "Bickering is so different than fighting." We share another quick kiss.

"So different," I say with a smile and lean in for a longer kiss.

Her kisses are so powerful; I forget what our problems are in the first place.

* * *

A/N: Well, I read that my reviewers wanted me to update soon, so I thought I would make them happy. It seems like a pretty equal relationship: You make me happy so I give you another update to make you happy.


	11. Found The Place To Rest My Head

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 11: Found The Place To Rest My Head_

The forest turns darker and darker every time I open my eyes after our lips part.

The last thing I want to do right now is go back to Storybrooke.

Still, I pull back.

Emma smiles and melts my heart in the process.

"Who would ever guess Pinocchio is a great kisser?"

I freeze, partly flattered and partly annoyed.

It takes me a second to decide how to respond.

I smile and bring her closer to me. I whisper, "Oh, there are so many things that will surprise you about fairytale characters once you get to know them, Princess Emma."

She smiles against my check. When she pulls back and looks at me her smile is gone. "You are breaking rule number two," she says seriously. I have to time to figure out if she's teasing or actually annoyed when she adds, "And possibly rule number four," with a smile.

I smile back, pull her into an embrace, and kiss her check. "Yeah, but let me remind you, Princess," My voice deepens at her title and she can tell I'm mocking her. "Your little rules don't exist here."

She steps back out of my arms.

"August-"

Now I know she's serious. I also just found out I don't like it when she calls me that name anymore.

"August!" I say with fervor. "Are we really back there?"

"Come on," Her light tone suggests she isn't as annoyed as I thought. "I have to call that in Storybrooke, don't I?"

"Yeah," I start slyly, "But we're not in Storybrooke now." I pause and look around the woods, continuing to mock her. "Are we? Because this place looks sort of different."

It works.

She is quickly back in my arms, laughing into my neck. She calms herself in a couple of seconds. Emma gives my neck a peak before looking seriously at me. "Do not call me Princess. I do not like it."

I mirror her serious look. "Do not call me August, I do not like it."

Emma tries to be understanding and serious, but she breaks into a smile quickly. "I know you like your second name. Plus, I hear Jiminy and your Father calling you that sometimes."

"I do not like it when you call me August," I correct her. "And I should be calling you Princess." My eyes widen as an idea comes to me, she sees them and crosses her arms, already determined to dislike it. "I should be the one helping you adjust to your title!" I say with too much excitement.

Emma loosens her grip on me and furrows her eyebrows. "How is helping me adjust to anything protecting me?"

"How is it not?" I am tempted to add 'Princess' to the end of all my sentences now, but don't. "The more adjusted you are to your role, the more protected you are."

Still smiling, Emma releases me and crosses her arms. "Right."

For a moment, we don't know what to say.

"Look," I offer. "If you really-"

"No," she says sweetly. "We were just bickering." At her words, both of us break into smiles. "I think you're right, though."

"Don't you hate that?"

She loops her arms around my neck. "You know, I really, really, do." She says before my lips are on hers.

Emma's cell phone ringing breaks us apart.

We look at each other. Her eyes don't leave mine as she reaches back to her jeans' pocket.

She checks the caller I.D. before putting it to her ear. "Hi, Dad," she says into my face, clearly warning me to shut up. "Yeah, I'm just finishing up work for a case. I'll be home in ten minutes." She is still looking at me, somewhat panicked as she listens to the other end. After a minute she says, "Okay, I'll see you soon," and puts her phone back in its place.

When Emma looks up at me, I can tell she's stressed. "So, I have to go home for dinner."

I take a step back from her, preparing to leave, but dreading it. "Right."

Both of us look sad, but I decide it's ridiculous. I try to lighten the mood. "So, tell me, how many times have you called him 'Dad?'"

A slight smile plays on her face. "That was the second." Emma puts her arms around me again. "And I did it just for you."

My arms reach around her, finally resting on her back. "For me? However can I repay you, Princess?"

Her fingers play with the hair the back of my neck. "I have some ideas, Pinocchio," she says and then leans in for a parting kiss.

My lips capture her and my hands go up and down her body. They rise and softly hold her checks. I swear I can feel them reddening beneath my palms.

I pull back only because I have to. "You need to go."

"Yeah," Emma whispers. "I should go."

We step back from each other, memorizing the other before parting.

"I'll see you soon?" I ask.

"Definitely," but Emma doesn't move. With one step forward, she is close enough to reach my lips. Her lips brush over mine quickly and before I know it, they have already left. "Bye," she says sweetly. Emma turns her back to me and begins to walk through the woods.

"You better watch out for yourself in these big, scary woods, Princess Emma!" I call after her.

"Our woods aren't scary!" She calls back and I smile.

I give her a couple minutes start to drive home before I leave our spot.

Dinner is already on the table when I walk through the door into my Father's kitchen. Jimmy and Father are sitting at the table, clearly waiting for me.

Really?

I can't go through a day in this town without getting in trouble.

"Hi," I say faintly. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were waiting for me."

Father indicates the third chair at the table and serves my plate without asking. He doesn't say a word and it almost kills me.

"We've had dinner together every night since the curse broke." Jiminy is clearly disappointed as well. "Did you really think we wouldn't wait for you?"

I look at Jiminy for a second, but his eyes are x-raying me so I have to look away.

"I said I was sorry," I say as take my plate from Father.

We start eating in silence, and I'm thankful. But of course, it doesn't stay that way.

No, Pinocchio has to be lectured by his Father and Jiminy Cricket to make his day complete.

"Pinocchio," Father starts. By his tone, I know I am in even more trouble. "Were you with Emma?"

And then I feel like I'm seven again.

"With Emma?" Jiminy says in a surprised tone. "How much trouble are you trying to get into?"

I decide to be quiet; not saying anything is better than lying.

"Were you with her all afternoon?" Father asks into my eyes. "Since I let her into the house?"

"Pinocchio," Jiminy adds right after Father. "I agree with you Emma needs a friend and a support system, but spending all afternoon with her is a different story."

Crickets are so annoying.

"What do you want me to say?"

"You need to be careful," Jiminy warns.

"And be on time for dinner," Father insists.

"Fine." I say clearly and focus my attention back to my food.

"What were you even doing all that time?" Jiminy won't let me eat peacefully.

"Appreciating growing up outside of Storybrooke," I say flippantly.

"Hey!" Father says angrily. He puts his fork down and points at me. "I don't ever want to hear that tone out of your mouth again."

I hold my eyes on Father's until he breaks out starring contest. I try again to eat dinner peacefully, realizing this is the first dinner with them that I would rather be somewhere else.

Or with someone else.

Is the change in relationship status with Emma really the cause of all of the discomfort and tension at the table? It can't be, since they don't know about our status change.

Then what is the problem?

Jiminy can't hide his emotions very well from me. I look at him quickly across the table. The fact that he is still disappointed in me makes me start to detest him.

He is still trying to be my conscience!

Unbelievable!

"I'm finished." I say after ten minutes in silence. "May I be excused?"

I know the answer before I asked.

"You may not," Father insists. "You will sit here with us until all of us are finished."

Do I look seven? He might have missed me growing up, but that doesn't mean I am still seven.

Seriously, parents around here need to chill out. If they wanted to parent their children they shouldn't have given them away in the first place.

I can't believe I just thought that.

I wait for both of them to finish, stand up from the table, and do the dishes in silence. After dinner, Jiminy and Father engage in some small talk, but most of the time the three off us stand in the kitchen together, festering in our now unbearable home environment.

When the last dish is put away, I storm out of the kitchen.

"Where are you going, young man?" Jiminy calls after me.

"To my room," I tell him with my back still facing him. I turn around to add, "That's not a crime, is it?"

"No. But it is if you keep speaking to me like that."

"Well, what can I say?" I start walking up the stairs. "Sometimes, people are just mad at their consciences."

I don't turn back to see his response.

My room is stuffy when I enter it. I open a window to find the night breeze warmer than I hoped. I go to the next window when I step on something and hear a 'crack!'

That damn chair.

It is still broken to bits from this afternoon. If I didn't feel the urge to run away from Emma, I wouldn't have a splinter in my foot right now.

"Urg! I wish I was home!" I raise my voice even though I'm talking to no one. "At least at home we have decent chairs and crickets stay little creatures without turning into parental figures I have to respect."

I think I hear something outside, but I ignore it.

"Damnit, Emma! If you were anybody else, with any other name or role in this town, I wouldn't break chairs by accident or run out of my Father's house!"

"Please give me some other name or role in this town." I hear a voice from outside. "I would gladly take it."

"Emma?" I walk to my window and look down. She is looking up at me, grinning, standing in my yard. "What are you doing here?" I whisper downwards.

"Waiting for you to give me another name. Don't you know how to work a little magic?"

I lean against the windowsill. "Not that kind of magic. Sadly, I don't know how to change your name without changing who you are," I pause, considering my options. "And I wouldn't change that for the world."

"You make it sound so noble and romantic," Emma's tone changes. She is teasing me again. "But you don't want to change my name because I am the only one who can, as you just put it, bring you to the home where chairs don't break and crickets stay animals."

"Speaking of, shouldn't you be working on that instead of coming here?" I suggest. "Considering both my Father and your Father will kill me if they find you here."

"Oh, now it's you Father too?"

"You know you shouldn't be here after dark," I warn her.

"Yes, how dare I wonder the town by myself at night." She says with a hint of sarcasm.

"Emma, it's a full moon." I inform her. "Which mean Red has changed forms."

"Oh, I'm so scared." Emma smiles and then walks closer to the house. "Let me up," she demands.

"What?" My shocked words come out of me before I can control them. "Are you crazy?"

"Yes!" Her obvious tone worries me. "It's a full moon. It makes everyone crazy!"

"I can't let you up." I tell her. "For one, my Father would kill me. And two, I don't know how."

She crosses her arms. "You don't how to offer a princess refuge?"

I smile. "You're breaking rule two."

She ignores me. "I am just more prepared than you are." Emma looks down in her purse and pulls out a rope.

I laugh. "You've got to be kidding me. You have a rope!"

Emma is unamused. "Red has changed forms. I'm not stupid."

"No. Crazy and reckless, yes, but stupid? No."

She throws me her rope. I catch it. I don't like this idea, but can't help laughing as she awkwardly climbs up. I'm thankful the house's stories are shorter than most. Emma doesn't have far to go and it's not dangerous. I help her through the window.

"Now what?" I blurt out before she is even on her feet.

"Now, we sleep."

What?

"What?"

She is crazy.

"I'm tired and my parents are driving me crazy. I couldn't sleep there even if I wanted to. Which, by the way, I don't."

"What about Henry? Your pride and joy?"

She kicks off her shoes. "Pride and joy went to bed an hour ago."

"Emma," I take hold of her arms, trying to snap her into reality. "We can't share my bed tonight, here, in my Father's house."

"Duh," now she looking at me like I'm the one who's crazy. "I'm going to sleep on the floor and you can have your precious bed."

Before I can say anything, she is pulling a pillow off my bed and then my quilt off the foot of it.

"Emma, you need to go home." She ignores me, continuing to set up a bed for herself. "What happened tonight?" I ask, but she is silent.

When she is done, Emma pulls the quilt over herself and turns her back to me. "Goodnight, August."

Within seconds, I know she is sleeping. I stare at her for a half hour, watching her breaths go in and out, wondering what on earth happened tonight. Part of me loves her here, but my better half knows, however way you look at it, this could turn out to be a very bad situation.

Still, against my better judgment, I carefully pick her up and place her on my bed. I take off my shoes and my sweater and climb in next to her, bringing the quilt over both of us. I kiss her hair before falling asleep in the crook of her neck.

I wake just as I feared I might:

With Jiminy Cricket standing over us, yelling, "What the hell is going on here?"

* * *

A/N: Is Jiminy going to turn into the friend or the foe? ;D!

A/N #2: Hey guys, I'm gone this weekend - I tried really hard to get the next chapter ready for you before I left, but it is midnight and it's not ready for everyone yet. :( I'm sorry. I'm almost done, so look for it on Monday or Tuesday. _THANKS! _


	12. The Arms Of The Ocean Are Carrying Me

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 12: The Arms Of The Ocean Are Carrying Me_

Time freezes after his words. All three of us are stuck in an awkward position for much longer than we should be.

I quickly realize Emma and I have not moved positions during the night. My arms are still around her, holding her to me. My chin still rests in the crook of her neck. Emma is snuggled up to me, her back against my front and her hands holding onto my forearms.

Her hands, soft and warm, only stay clinging to mine for that one awkward moment. Without moving I take in Emma's morning smell. Like most of her other qualities, there is nothing like it anywhere in this world or the next. I hold onto Emma until I know the moment is going to pass.

Emma breaks out of my arms, stands up from my bed, adjusts her top, and quickly moves to the other side of my room without a word.

After she leaves my bed, my legs bend over the edge of it and force the rest of my body to rise.

I am face to face with Jiminy Cricket.

He walks one more step inside my room. His bulging eyes force me to make eye contact with him. "What the hell are you thinking?" He asks in a voice that is obviously trying to be a whisper, but is loud enough to wake the neighborhood.

"If crickets are allowed to swear," I answer honestly.

He did ask what I was thinking.

And, aren't I supposed to be honest?

"Pinocchio." From his voice, I can tell he's already tired of my smartass remarks. "What are you two doing?"

Sleeping, Jiminy. What does it look like? And thanks, by the way, for ruining my first morning waking up with Emma.

"What are you doing," I decide to argue back. "Here, at," I break my focus on him to look at my alarm clock. My eyes widen, "five-thirty in the morning?"

"Saving both of your asses!" He swears again. Jiminy turns to Emma. "You need to go home, now."

"Hey!" I push myself off the bed and stand between both of them. "This is not your house! You don't have the right to tell her to go."

"Your Father would say the same thing!" He informs me angrily. Then his tone changes, as if he's taunting me. "Would you like me to go wake him?"

"No!" Emma finally speaks, but her voice is heartbreaking to hear. Her fear is in her voice and in her body, tensing her muscles and pulling her limbs inward. "Waking up to Jiminy Cricket yelling at you is enough." Her face is scary and serious. "Believe. Me."

Jiminy takes Emma's words as an opening to confront her. He walks closer to her so that they are arm's distance apart. His volume decreases, "You know, this kind of behavior is exactly why there are trust issues between you and your parents." They stare at each other after his words, some kind of meaning passing between them.

I look from one to the other. What is going on? Has Emma been going to therapy with Jiminy?

For some reason, the idea makes me feel very awkward.

"Their total abandonment of me is why I have trust issues with my parents," Emma responds.

"Your parents don't want the two of you spending time together! How do you expect to ever start building trust with them if you run away and hide every time there is an issue with them?"

Emma shrugs. "I don't," she says carelessly. After her words, she finally moves from her corner, walking over to put on her shoes. "I expect them to treat me like an adult and not a child."

Jiminy has a comeback, I can tell, but he refrains from using it and lets Emma to finish putting on her shoes in peace.

Emma stands up, gathers her rope and her purse and begins to walk out the door.

My hands stop her at her waist. Emma looks up at me and I instantly know touching her around anybody is against her rules. Still, I hold my hands steady. "Can I walk you home?"

I am not looking at Jiminy, but he shifts his stance disapprovingly.

"No," Emma insists without a smile. "I don't think you should be anywhere near my house right now."

I'm sure I could walk her home without being caught. If anything, I know I could at least walk her to her street corner, but I don't say so.

Emma puts one hand on my arm cautiously. "Thank you though," she whispers before moving out of my arms.

She doesn't look at me again and she walks out of my room and down the stairs.

Jiminy and I are silent until we hear the front door open and shut.

"You know this is not going to end well," he warns.

"Remind me," I cross my arms. "How this is any of you business."

"I care about you, Pinocchio!" His anger breaks into tenderness. "You should know that. And I care about Emma – the whole town does! You have to know you're playing with fire here."

"Emma and I are fine and will be fine. We're a team."

"A team," He laughs in my face. "That girl can't be a team with anybody! Do you have any idea how messed up she is?"

"I have an idea, trust me," I say with confidence. "But, hey, you're right, I haven't been in therapy with her."

He knows what I'm implying. "Now that's none of your business."

"But my relationship with Emma is?" I argue back.

"Your relationship with Emma," he repeats my words sarcastically. "You can't be serious."

My eyes furrow at him. "What did it look like was going on?"

"Come on," Jiminy begs softly. "Do Prince James' threats really mean nothing to you?"

"Not really. Like I said, I think Emma and I will be fine."

"Pinocchio!" He says my name in exasperation. "There is no you and Emma! How can that girl have any kind of romantic relationship if she can't even manage to get along with her parents?"

"Lots of people have relationships and don't get along with their parents."

"There's nothing I can say, is there?" Jiminy whispers sadly, backing down.

Finally. I let some tension out of my bones at his white flag.

"No, not really." I say softly.

Jiminy's face saddens and it's heartbreaking. The way he's looking at me now – it's almost like he knows something bad is going to happen to me.

But I know as long as I have Emma, I'll be fine.

His feet turn in the direction of the door. "As long as you're looking at me like that," I start and he turns back. "I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

"If you're going to ask me to condone this, I can't."

He could, if he wanted to, he just is determined to be a pain in my ass.

"Don't tell anyone," I ask.

Anger swells within him at my request. He storms to my door, and just when I think I am free of him, he shuts himself in.

He approaches me furiously, "You can't keep this a secret. It'll be out in this town by tomorrow and you know it."

"We could, with your help, Jiminy." I lightly beg.

"Don't ask me to do that." He states firmly.

"Are you really that disappointed in me that you are going to refuse to help me? That's not like you, Jiminy."

"I could never be that disappoint in you," Jiminy whispers.

"So, you'll help me?" I ask hopefully.

"You aren't seeing straight right now," he tells me sadly. "You are so far out in the ocean that you can't see the land. You can't see the forest for the trees!"

Ah, shrink phrases. Wonderful.

I don't say anything, but look to the ground.

"You are giving into temptation."

"I am following by heart," I say back powerfully and he shuts up. "And you're either going to help us or not!"

"Thinking in black and white is not going to help this situation."

"Fine," I concede, sick of his shrink personality. "Then find some grey area."

He's silent for a moment, not thinking, but obviously still shocked at my lip.

"I already said I would help you," he pauses and then realizes: "For no good reason at all. This is a hopeless situation. I am just helping you because you are you and I am me."

"How can Jiminy Cricket think any situation is hopeless?"

He smiles, "I guess it's only hopeless to outsiders."

I smile too. Finally we've reached an understanding.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"Only for you, Pinocchio."

We look at each other for a moment. Love is shared between us for the second time since the curse was broken. I hope my gratitude is shown through my smile.

I break the moment, "Can I go back to bed now?"

"Oh!" He looks outside to the light breaking over the land. "Yeah. Sure." Jiminy turns and walks to the door mumbling, "It's five forty-five, sleeping time, breakfast in two hours, still bed time, quiet time." He still mumbles as he closes the door on his way out.

I flop onto my bed, the covers half on and half off, and go straight back to sleep.

The smell of breakfast wakes me up. Father's cooking is sizzling on the stove downstairs, making it hard to resist rising and starting my day, despite how tired I am from the events that took place two hours ago.

"Good morning," Father says. His warm greeting me tells me he has already forgiven and forgotten the events of last night.

Still, I can't help saying, "I'm sorry my attitude last night."

His smile disappears at my apology. I wonder what he is thinking. "You know, I just want you to be happy, right?"

I smile. "I know," I say and take my plate of eggs from him.

"Butt I do think you need to be really careful when it comes to spending time with Emma."

I look at the concern on his face and realize what he is saying is true. I probably have been too irresponsible in handing my relationship with Emma. Thoughts and images of last night appear in my mind; I didn't fully understand how reckless our decisions were.

For a second, I worry Father might be aware of last night, but I look at him again and know he is clearly oblivious of our houseguest staying with us.

I walk to the table and he follows. "Where's Jiminy?"

Father lets out a small laugh, "I think he went home for once." He looks at me with a special meaning. "So, it's just us."

We both sit down at the table at the same time and start eating.

"Finally," I say with a smile.

Father looks like he wants to say something, but doesn't. We eat our breakfast peacefully, but out of the corner of my eye I sense he is looking at me, waiting for the right moment to speak.

I start to clear the dishes. Father clears his throat. I sit back down. "What?" I ask, kind of annoyed.

"Pinocchio," Father starts sternly. "Jiminy is part of our family. The way you treated him last night was completely unacceptable."

When he wants to, Father is the only person who has the ability to make me feel like a little undeserving puppet again.

"I know," I say softly. "I apologized to him this morning. It won't happen again, okay?"

"He's only trying to look out for you," Father observes.

"He's trying to be my conscious again," I inform him as kindly as I can.

His surprise is evident on his face as his head jolts up from starring at the table. I look at him seriously, making sure he understands my message.

Father sits up straighter, "Well, he sees you as-"

There is a knocking on the door. We both turn at the noise.

"Pinocchio?" A small voice announces his presence.

"Henry?" I rise from the table to greet him. When I see him on the other side of the screen door, I notice wisdom far beyond his years. "Good morning."

"Morning." I look straight down at him and see the concern on his face.

I open the screen door and walk onto the porch. "Is everything okay? What's wrong?"

Henry takes a deep breath. "Things are not going well at home. Emma and her parents are constantly at odds with one another. Last night all three of them ended up yelling at each other after dinner. I was stuck in the middle, trying to make all of them stop."

I am trying to process his words and figure out what he wants from me.

Did I know things were bad enough for Henry to come to me for help?

"I'm sorry to hear that Henry, but I'm not sure how I can help."

Henry is uncomfortable now. He knows what he wants to say, but he holds back.

I bend down and smile.

That seems to be enough. Henry meets my eyes; I realize there's fire behind them. "Don't give her a place to run to."

"What?"

"She's running to you after every fight, isn't she? Emma spent the night here, with you, didn't she?"

I stand up from Henry at his words.

It takes me several moments to recover. I close my eyes.

I turn from him and realize I can't breathe when I'm looking at his omniscient face.

* * *

A/N: THANK YOU FOR WAITING! I really hope the chapter was worth the wait. Reviewers' firey response to the Geppetto/Pinocchio/Jiminy relationship is awesome! Thank you for the feedback and debate. I'm touched their dynamic is as important to my readers as it is to me. Emma and August will be back in full force next chapter. _xoxo_


	13. All This Devotion Was Rushing Out of Me

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 13: All This Devotion Was Rushing Out Of Me_

The knots in my stomach loosen as I look away from Emma's son. It's easier to process Henry's information with my back to him. Still, I know I can only hold my position for long, little boys are so impatient.

How did he put our relationship together, if that's even what he's telling me? Would Emma really tell him something like that? Yesterday I would have doubted it. But today? Apparently she's working on her problems with Jiminy instead of me.

"I know you're a great support for her, and I'm grateful." Henry voice lowers to a pleading whisper as he speaks to my back. "All I'm asking you is to stop giving her a place to run."

I turn back to him, the knots tightening again. "I don't want your mother to run Henry," I whisper softly. "I just rather her be running to a place where she can feel support than a place where she could find even more trouble."

I thought my words would settle him, but instead Henry turns more upset. His voice rises higher than its normal level. "You both are acting like rebellious teenagers!" He accuses me, which is ironic considering he doesn't even know how to be a rebellious teenager yet. "You can grow up, right? You're not Peter Pan!"

"Henry," is all I can manage to say.

"We're fighting a war here and it's not over!" Henry is growing more upset. I don't know how to calm him down, apart from giving him what he wants. "And you guys are running around, doing whatever you're doing, instead of figuring out how to beat The Evil Queen."

I know he is right. Believe me, finishing off Regina and going home is just as important to me as it is to anybody else. I haven't viewed my relationship with Emma that way. It is obvious to me she needs a place or a person to escape to or she might not ever come back to Storybrooke.

Hey, she's already tried it once.

My job is to protect her, not to help her break the curse.

Still, I say. "You're right, Henry."

My words don't calm him. He continues, "I'm always right! I don't understand why I still have to prove myself! Just because I'm still a kid doesn't mean I don't know what's going on around here."

"Henry," I beg him to calm down. I have new appreciation for Emma as a mother. I bend down to him. "I'm sorry for allowing your mom to stay over last night. It must have really scared you. I'm sure your mom didn't want to scare or worry you in any way."

Apparently, Henry's emotions are not the point. "Please send her back to us," he begs. "You need to send her home whenever she's gone. You're the only one who can."

I blink at his words.

Whenever she's gone.

Does he know we leave Storybrooke?

Or is he speaking in more of a metaphorical way?

Henry turns when the front porch creaks.

"Hi Henry," I hear Jiminy's voice before I see him. "It's nice to see you."

I'm thankful for the distraction, but wonder if I will ever find out what Henry really meant.

"Hi, Dr. Cricket."

"Oh, Henry." Jiminy smiles warmly at him. "You only have to call me Dr. Cricket when we're in sessions."

Wait, now Henry is going to therapy with Jiminy as well?

"Okay," Henry walks backwards until he reaches the porch steps. "Well, then we will all see you tomorrow night," he says to Jiminy. Then he addresses me. "Thanks for your help, Pinocchio."

Help? I never agreed to help him.

I put on a fake smile and wave to him. The next second I'm thankful he is gone.

"What did he want help with?" Jiminy asks with a smile.

"I didn't say I would help him." I defend myself.

"But, you're going to." Jiminy confirms confidently. Then he sees my hesitant face. "Right?"

"People are pulling me in a hundred different directions!" My voice raises unconsciously. "I don't know what to do anymore!"

Jiminy watches my little explosion with empathy. A warm smile is waiting for me after I calm down. "You do what your heart tells you. If you do that then you can't go wrong," he tells me softly.

"How can you say that?" I wonder out loud. "After all the mistakes I've made."

Jiminy walks closer to me and puts his hand on my shoulder. He looks deep into my eyes, as if he's x-raying my soul. "I've always believed in you. Your problem is you don't believe in yourself. You start believing in yourself, and," He smiles and holds my shoulder tighter. "Man, you would have no idea what kind of magic you could create just by sitting with someone."

Sitting with someone.

His words remind me of what I wanted to ask him.

I take one more second trying to absorb his words of wisdom, but then I ask. "How many Charmings are you seeing for therapy?"

Jiminy's mind takes a second to jump to my change in conversation. Then he says in an obvious tone, "All of them come for family therapy on Thursday nights. I thought I told you this morning."

No, he briefly alluded to seeing Emma in therapy. I had no idea the whole family was going.

That changes things.

"Is that why you have been so firm about me not to seeing Emma?"

Jiminy shifts uncomfortably. "I guess that was part of it."

I let out a breath of disbelief. "Do I come up during these sessions?"

Jiminy doesn't want to speak, but he doesn't have to, his confirmation is all over his face.

"Unbelievable." I feel my anger start to boil under my skin.

"Parenting is hard. They just trying to figure out the best thing for Emma."

I'm the best thing for Emma!

But then I remember the look on Henry's face, begging me to send Emma home.

"What is the best thing for Emma?" I ask him gently.

Jiminy lets out a deep sigh. "Gosh, I don't know. If we knew that, there wouldn't be any friction in the first place."

"Really?" I'm surprised at his words. "You're not going to say leaving her alone is the best for Emma?"

"Of course not!" Jiminy lets go of my shoulder and puts a second hand on his umbrella. "I don't believe that for a second. I can't tell you what is said in those sessions, but I do know Emma needs you."

His words warm my heart.

And they give me the courage to ask him about Henry's words. "Do you think we're acting like rebellious teenagers?"

Jiminy waits for the right words to come to him. He takes a deep breath, "I think both of you didn't have parents growing up to rebel against, so you're doing it now. It makes sense."

"I don't want to rebel against my Father." I tell him confidently.

"Okay. Maybe." He concedes. "But that's not the case for Emma. There's a lot of anger and resentment between her and her parents. And," Jiminy stops himself from speaking, but another second passes and he opens his mouth. "I think if you look hard enough you might find yourself sharing some of her feelings towards your father." I open my mouth to object, but he speaks over me. "I know you don't want to think about it, but he abandoned you too," he reminds me softly.

We stare at each other for a moment. Jiminy's warm, understanding eyes feel like relief flowing over me. It's wonderful to have someone who empathizes with you.

Still, I can't help asking, "Are you saying that's why we're having a relationship – or hiding it – to piss our parents off?"

"No." He says quickly. "But your feelings towards your parents might be part of the reason you're attracted to each other."

Oh. I feel my eyes unconsciously widen. I hadn't thought of that.

"You have an opportunity to be brave and unselfish with Emma." He puts his palm on the side of my check. "You just need to have faith in yourself and follow your heart. Put her needs before your own and you'll be fine." He looks at me one more time before letting me go and walking passed me.

Easy for him to say; when we go back home he'll be turned back into a cricket.

I watch him carelessly swing the screen door open and call for Father.

I stare at the screen door before deciding to stay outside. The porch swing and its wooden seat are calling to me.

I sit on the swing and watch the horizon until my eyes loose their focus and become blurry.

A sobbing noise brings me back to reality.

Emma is standing before me, her hair straight down her back, her eyes red and puffy, tears flowing out of them, begging me to take her into my arms.

I stand from the swing, not moving my feet, still taking her in. Despite her distressed face, she is still so beautiful.

Before I can say anything or move, Emma is in my arms, wrapping herself around me as her sobs increase.

I place my arms around her, supporting her as she falls further into me. "Shhh," I try and comfort her. When it doesn't work, I raise my head above hers and kiss her hair.

It takes a while for Emma to calm down and regain control over herself. When she does, we both migrate to the swing; Emma lying across most of it, her legs bent on the seat, and her head on my shoulder. One of my arms droops on top of the side of her body; my fingers move in circles where her shirt has risen and her skin is bare.

A thousand questions pop into my head. Most importantly I note that I need to tell Emma Henry stopped by. If don't, I know Emma will call me out, accusing me of being a liar.

Emma lets out another sob, and I know my questions and concerns will have to wait. I am assuming she's upset because of something concerning her parents, but I don't actually know.

I also realize today is only the second time I've seen her cry. For everything she's going through, I never put together how emotionally strong Emma is to be able to handle the pressure she must be under. I am then surprised she hasn't broken down like this before now.

She calms herself down after several minutes. She shifts her head position on my shoulder while I begin running my fingers through her hair.

At my touch, Emma sits up. She looks into my eyes. Although she has stopped crying, her eyes are still glossy. I try to smile at her and Emma mirrors me weakly.

"Thank you," she whispers.

I can't speak at her words. There is something about Emma in front of me, so vulnerable, so beautiful, that makes me afraid to speak.

Emma sits up a little straighter and leans in closer to me. I know what is going happen before it does, and I can't believe it.

Her lips brush over mine softly and quickly as a thank you. I move my head closer to her in hopes of prolonging our sweet kiss. Emma meets my lips for a second longer before breaking away.

Her head leans back on my shoulder once again as her last tear falls down her check.

I squeeze her shoulder. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" I ask in a whisper.

Emma snuggles closer to me. Her touch is intoxicating. "Yeah," she whispers. "But not right now."

I have no choice but to accept that, and its not hard with Emma clinging to me, her body heat bonding to mine. I look down at her face and see her eyes are closed. I do the same and relax into her.

I don't know how long we stay in the same position before I hear a woman begging for her daughter. "Emma," her voice breaks as the name is called.

I open my eyes to Prince James and Snow White holding hands in my yard; only concern for their daughter on their faces.

Emma sits up at her name, but doesn't leave the swing. She looks at me and I wonder if she is silently asking me to protect her.

My eyes dart between the three of them. They stop when I look at Prince James. For once, he doesn't even see me. All he cares about is his daughter.

And that's when I know whatever happened between them was horrible.

* * *

A/N: Yay for quick updates! I haven't updated this quickly in a while :D. I did read there is some confusion over the Jiminy/Geppetto relationship. I know which way I am writing it, but I love that it isn't defined. If readers need/want it defined, let me know. Otherwise, if you see a best friend relationship, then they're best friends. If you see something more, then there's something more. _I really hope that doesn't kill the debate :0!_ I really want to thank each and every reviewer, their feedback is so encouraging to me. Thanks for all the favorites and alerts - I notice you guys too! _  
_


	14. Crashes Are Heaven For A Sinner Like Me

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 14: The Crashes Are Heaven For A Sinner Like Me_

"Emma," Snow White says softly. "Please," she begs.

Her daughter doesn't respond. Instead Emma grabs my arm and loops her hand around it, making sure I stay with her.

While I know the family is in a horrible situation, I wonder why her parents are treating Emma with so much delicately.

Prince James breaks from his wife and approaches the porch. "Emma, honey." I've never heard so much love and care in his voice before. "We're – I'm so sorry." He walks to the edge of the porch steps, knowing coming any closer would be pushing limits. "Please, can we talk to you for just a minute? We were only trying to get to know you. We never meant to betray you."

Betray her? How could her parents who, couldn't love anything more in the world, betray her?

"Emma, just-" Prince James' words are caught behind his emotion; his apology clearly not enough. "Can you please look at me?"

Instead of looking at her Father right away, Emma's eyes rise to find mine, obviously asking me what to do. After the one second of eye contact between us, I refuse to look at her. Since her parents are treating me as an invisible man, that is the character I take on. I maintain an emotional distance with the three of them. Even as Emma clings to me, I don't reciprocate.

"I don't want to talk to you right now." Emma stats, her eyes finally on her Father's. "Please leave me alone."

Thinking she her words were final and she made her point, Emma closes her eyes and leans her head back against my arm.

Alarms are going off in my head. Emma's actions make me uncomfortable for two reasons. She has literarily put me in the middle of her and her parents, and she is using me as shield to avoid them.

"No," I stand up. Emma upper body falls on the swing from lack of support. Prince James finally sees me. He looks at me with confusion and gratefulness. I turn back to Emma who is still on the swing. "You're not going to use me to hide from them, Emma."

Emma stands and walks closer to me. "You don't even know what they did," she whispers angrily into my face.

"It doesn't matter!" I whisper strongly back. "They are you're parents. You can't use me to hide from them, or avoid them, or make problems worse between you guys. That's not why I'm here!"

"I know that!" Emma responds in her normal tone. "Avoiding my parents is not why I came to you."

Really? Because that's sort of what it looks like.

And it's definitely how it feels like.

"Good." I decide I don't want to hear her explanations. "Because that would honestly make me think less of you."

My words hurt her. The shock and pain are on her face. For once, I don't care.

A single tear escapes her left eye. "What do you want me to do?"

Her words take me aback. I blink. They also tell me she is too upset to think straight.

"I want you to hear your parents out." I tell her unsympathetically. Emma begs for friendly understanding, I give her none. "I know they are problems between you guys and there probably always be, but they are your parents and they love you." Emma opens her mouth to argue, but I speak over her. "I know you're upset, you have every right to be, but you need to at least hear them out, and then we can see where goes from there."

Emma's anger boils as she hears my words. I keep a stern face. Henry was right, we do need to grow up, this is me trying.

She turns back to her Father and finds her Mother has walked to the porch as well.

"I'm looking at you," she says flippantly. To further show her annoyance, Emma crosses her arms.

I wish she wouldn't.

Her parents try to ignore and forgive her behavior. I note it's more than Father and Jiminy did for me.

"We are so, so sorry Emma." This time Snow White apologizes. "We really didn't know how private your box was."

Her box? What box? I'm confused.

"We did hear you when you asked us not to look in there." Prince James says in his loving voice. "We, I, just want to know you, who you are as a person. And you make it very difficult to do." Snow White coughs, trying to signal something to her husband. "Which, we did learn, is not your fault." Tears form behind his eyes. "We're trying everyway we possibly can to respect your privacy and your secrets, but you still give us nothing." He says softly as the tears run down his face. He waits for a moment to see if Emma will speak, but she doesn't. "You are our daughter, and we love you so much, Emma, more than you could possibly know. And we're so sorry."

When I look at Emma's face, it is clear she is doing everything she can to hold back her own tears.

"I thought we were trying to build trust between us," Emma says faintly.

"We are!" Snow White cries. She steps closer to Emma and tries to reach for her. "And that is what's so heartbreaking to us. We never meant to put that in jeopardy." Tears also run down her eyes at her realization.

"You did!" Emma transforms into an enraged being. "You broke all trust between us. All the effort put into fixing our issues is now wasted! There are items in that box that no parent should see! That no child should see! And the three of you went through all of it! You now know all these private details about my life that you don't have a right to know!"

"We're sorry!" Prince James' voice raises over his daughter's loud enough to attract Father and Jiminy out from inside.

Great.

Prince James lowers his voice, but he seems unaware of his new audience. "But let's not pretend you haven't made mistakes to question our trust, Emma."

I feel Emma's anger move through her as I stand slightly behind her.

Snow White puts her hand warningly on Prince James, "Charming," she whispers.

"What are you talking about?" Emma asks with an innocent face.

Prince James hesitates for a moment, but his words escape him before he can think. "You're here, aren't you? The one place we told you not to go. You are spending time with people we've told you we do not trust. I have asked you repeatedly to stay away from Pinocchio and Geppetto, but you do not trust my word enough to listen to it!"

"I would, if it had any basis at all!"

Emma, just because you have forgiven my Father doesn't mean your Father has.

"Emma," Prince James tries again, adjusting his voice so it loses its edge. "It hurts me that you trust Geppetto and Pinocchio more than your own family."

Wow.

I turn to Emma to find she is as shocked as I am. Without moving I search out Father and Jiminy for their reactions. Jiminy is more impressed and surprised than Father, but of course Father hasn't been in therapy with them to know how big a step Prince James' words probably were.

Emma steps closer to her father, a sad but understanding smile on her face. "I don't see it that way," she whispers.

Prince James doesn't know what to say. I scan my family and hers to understand her words have caught everyone off guard.

After moments of silence, Snow White asks softy, "How do you see it, Emma?"

Emma looks at her mother's heartbroken face and drops her arms to her sides. "I don't know. I don't see it as black and white as you guys do." Emma keeps her voice as a whisper, and I'm impressed. "It's not about trusting one group versus the other. I don't like that both of you," she eyes her parents. "Have put me in the middle of your fight with them," Emma motions to Father and me. "I see it as they are my friends and you are my family. I need my friends to be able to stay sane, that's how I see it." Emma takes a deep breathe and turn directly to her Father, "You don't get to take away my one true friend just because you are my Father."

"Emma," Prince James lets another tear run down his check. "We need you."

"And I needed you like 20 years ago." Emma raises her voice to its normal tone. "And now I need to go hide because I'm emotionally overloaded again." She turns to me, and I see her pain in her body and her stress in her face. "Did I hear them out enough for you?"

I scan her and can't help saying, "Yes. Yes, you did."

"Good." Emma says firmly. "Can I go hide now?"

"Uh," I feel trapped again. I don't know an answer that will please everybody. I look at her Father in hopes his disapproval will tell me what to do, but there's nothing on his face but heartbreak and concern. "Yeah."

"Great." Emma turns towards her parents in one rigid motion. "I will be home after dinner if you guys leave me alone for a couple hours. Please tell Henry his gameboy is under my bed if he finishes the dishes." She lets a moment pass before walking to our screen door.

Wait, she's hiding here?

"You're staying here?" Prince James asks, disbelief in his voice.

Emma flings the screen door open. "If you want me to come home after dinner," she threatens, shoves the front door open, and walks through.

When Emma is out of sight, the rest of us stand awkwardly on the porch, refusing to face one another.

"Well," Jiminy breaks the silence. "That was more productive than all of our therapy sessions put together."

I can't help but smile at his words. I turn to Jiminy to see him smiling as well.

Snow turns to her husband. "Emma will be fine here for a couple hours. I think the best thing we can do right now is leave her alone," Snow White tells him. The couple looks at each other for a moment, silently communicating. "And speaking of dinner. I promised Henry he could help me cook and I still have some shopping to do." She squeezes her husband's arm and then puts a hand up to the rest of us as a goodbye. "I'm sorry for involving you in such a private family matter." She says and then turns to walk away.

I look back at Father and Jiminy to silently figure out a way to face Prince James and find Father has already gone inside.

Jiminy, Prince James, and I are alone on the porch.

Before I can work myself up to freak out, Prince James interrupts my thoughts. "How do you do it?" He asks me softly.

Is this the first time he has spoken to me with respect?

"Do what?" I match his tone.

"Gain her trust like that." He tells me. "Be the person she runs to instead of the person she runs from. I'd give anything for that, but she's been running from us to you since day one."

A thousand answers and explanations come to my head. My shock at his respect is still preventing me from speaking.

"They've built a relationship of trust before the curse even broke." Jiminy steps in for me. "I think that's a big part of it."

"Maybe." Prince James concedes.

Was that him actually accepting our friendship?

Finally.

"But, Emma trusted Snow before the curse broke too, and," He motions to the house and then to where Snow White left. "As you can see that went to hell."

"It hasn't gone to hell." I speak because I finally have words I know he wants to hear. "I know Emma wants to trust you guys, especially her mother. I just hope you won't continue to give her reasons not to." I make a conscious effort to speak very softly.

"How does she trust you?" Frustration and anger start to show in his face. "I would think just knowing who you are is reason enough not to trust you."

His words hurt. I look at Jiminy and he knows they do. He stands up straighter and smiles at me, giving me enough confidence to say what I need.

"I accept who she is," I tell him with audacity. "And where she is. I know she can't go to deep emotional places, so I don't expect her to."

Although, it's such a wonderful surprise when she does.

"I can't take away my daughter's first true friend," Prince James unwillingly admits. "But that doesn't mean I like you. I'm going to try and trust you because it seems you understand Emma in a way we don't. As much as that breaks my heart, I think she needs a friend right now. So I'm going to try to trust you for Emma, because she asked me to." His voice breaks a little. "Only for my daughter."

I don't know what to say or how it will change things, but I smile at him as a thank you.

"If my daughter trusts you, Pinocchio, I don't see why I can't. Although," He steps closer to me, enough to threaten me, but not enough to scare Jiminy. "I have a friend that's working on a spell for me for this other nonfriend of mine and if I hear that you've taken advantage of my trust, I will just have to find another solution for this nonfriend and save the spell for you. Understood?"

His threat does scare me, but then Emma's face appears in my mind, and my confidence resurfaces.

"I better learn to be brave and truthful, then." I reply.

"Let's hope you already know how," he says seriously. "Because if you don't, magic could teach you the lesson in a way you don't want it taught. Believe me."

And with one more threatening look, the Prince turns and powerfully exists my Father's property.

I look back at Jiminy's worried face, "Any advice, Dr. Cricket?"

* * *

A/N: Promising Emma/August fluffy wonderfulness next chapter to those who tell me they want it! Hopefully readers will cherish it while it last, because it sounds like Prince James' threats are becoming more and more concrete :O!


	15. The Arms Of The Ocean Deliver Me

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 15: The Arms Of The Ocean Deliver Me_

Jiminy doesn't offer any more advice, reminding me he's already told me everything I need to know. We smile as a friendly parting, but I pause, looking at him for a moment more than I usually do, wondering how I would handle the situation without him.

Which is funny, considering yesterday I wanted to swash his bug form when as soon as we arrived back home.

When I enter the house, I expect to see Emma waiting for me in the living room or in the kitchen with Father.

She is neither of these places.

I peek into the kitchen and Father points upstairs with a warning smile.

It's a weird feeling knocking on your own bedroom door. Still, I don't open it until I hear a broken, "Yeah," from behind the door.

"Emma?" I ask cautiously.

"Yeah?" She grunts in the same tone.

"Can I come in?"

"It's your room," she replies in her Emma-like way.

I enter to find her lying on my bed, starring at my ceiling.

"How are you doing?" I ask, concern in my voice.

By the look on her face, I know she doesn't want or need my concern. Though, I know her well enough to know she is just putting on a face. "I'm hungry," she acts as though doesn't remember the scene outside.

"Okay, well," I play along. Emma looks at me and shows me her need for comfort and support behind her eyes, though she wouldn't dare speak it. I sit on the side of my bed, and Emma automatically readjusts so her legs are across my lap. My fingers move back and forth across her jeans, massaging her. "My Father is downstairs, about to make dinner."

"I don't want to eat dinner with your father," she sits up gracefully. "I've had enough parents for one day. Plus, it barely afternoon."

"Italians take a while to make dinner, but it's worth it." Emma leans closer into me. "Besides you're the one who said you were hungry."

A sly expression appears on Emma's face. "I was giving you an opening."

I smile. "An opening?" I open my mouth in suspense and excitement, mocking her a little. "An opening for what?"

Emma closes the space between us by putting both her lips in my open mouth. The magical feeling ignites in me as I close my lips around hers. I know she meant it to be a quick kiss, but I don't care. My arms go up her back, bringing her closer to me, while Emma puts her palms on my checks.

Our moment together is too short before she pulls back, but she only retreats enough so our lips are no longer touching; our faces still closer together than ever.

Her eyes open and look deeply, knowingly into mine. "For you to ask me out."

I pull back out of her grasp. "Ask you out?" I ask, surprised.

"Yeah," Emma's spunky attitude surfaces. "Let's call it a date." She remembers my words from months ago.

I smile at her remembrance. "You sure like your labels," I notice. Emma she just puts her arms around my neck, anticipating my next word. "Don't you have some decompressing to do after that heavy conversation downstairs?"

"Well," Emma gives me a quick kiss. "I'm optimistic about our date," she whispers into my mouth before kissing me again.

I kiss her back, though only for a second before pulling away. She looks at me surprised, I'm not usually the one to pull away.

"Emma," my hand goes up and down her arm. "What are we doing?"

"Well, I don't know about you," she says lightly. "But I'm waiting for you to ask me out." She pauses, and then adds. "Something a princess should never do by the way."

"Emma," I say seriously to bring her down from her pedestal.

"Okay, fine." Emma takes a deep breath and then smiles slyly at me. "But I thought you didn't like labels."

"I never said that," I defend myself. "I said you use them to make yourself more comfortable."

Emma pulls back from me so we're no longer touching. "Are you going to formally ask me out or not?" She asks, clearly becoming impatient.

"You are trying to control everything again," I comment at her behavior.

"And, yet, you're the one asking what we're doing."

Her longing is not how I imagined working up the nerve to ask her. Now that I think about it, I realize I have been imagining asking her out ever since her birthday. I have been itching to take her to the Chantey's Lobster House for old time's sake.

Instead of asking, though, all I can do is kiss her again, because I hate the idea of her asking me out. I should have been the one to ask first.

"Pinocchio!" She pulls back in frustration and impatience. My name is said in her irritated voice. She's trying to show how annoyed she is, but all I think about is how cute she is.

I look at her before saying anything, knowing even though she has wreak part of my ask-out process, it's important to finish asking her the right way.

Damn, I wish I had some flowers.

I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and look at her during my exhale, to find she is laughing at me – at least in her eyes.

But at as soon as our eyes meet, she can't help laughing at loud.

"Emma!" I reach back and throw a pillow at her.

How dare she laugh at me! Doesn't she know how nerve-wracking it is to ask out a princess?

"I'm sorry," she says genuinely. She leans in for a quick, sweet, kiss. "Really. Sorry."

It's nice to see her smile. I'm glad she's able to compartmentalize. She seems to have forgotten everything that happened downstairs.

"Can I take a deep breath for my nerves again?" I question if she's ready.

Emma tries to keep a straight face. For the most part, she does, except for her eyes – which are still laughing at me.

I take a deep breath. "I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to dinner tonight at the Chantey's Lobster House, Princess Emma?" I ask in my most formal voice.

A sweet, non-mocking smile appears on her face. "I would love to. I thought you'd never ask," She says and kisses my check. "Thank you."

When she feels my shoulders drop from my stress leaving me, Emma laughs loudly. "Accompany me? Princess?" Now she mocks me. "We're not in Fairytale Land yet."

"You said a formal ask out," I defend my word choice.

"Sure, but I like the traditional American ask out as much the next girl."

Well, the next girl is Wendy, who lives two miles down the road, so I seriously doubt it.

I don't share my doubts with her. Instead, I tease, "Are you really complaining about the way I asked you out? After basically tricking me into it?"

"What a romantic way of looking at it," Emma comments, disappointed.

Women are impossible to please.

"Would you like to control the rest of the planning?" I offer. "Like when we leave and whose car we go in?"

"Yes!" She perks up. "I want to go on your bike, at 5:30, after I take my nap," she insists. "And thank you for offering, but you know, I let you pick out the restaurant."

"Oh?" I ask lightly. "You like my restaurant choice? Are you over your emotional scars from that place already?"

There is sweetness in her face again. "Well, now the restaurant only reminds me of you, so-"

I cut her off with a forceful kiss. Emma responds just as strongly, pulling me down to the bed, over her.

Butterflies release and fly around my stomach as we lie on my bed, wrapped around each other in a way we've never done before. Emma's hands are exploring my body, and I realize mine are reacting just as curiously.

While there's something thrilling about crossing boundaries with Emma and reaching new levels in our relationship, I'm surprised how scared I am.

I break away from her briefly, barely opening my eyes, to check how she's doing. Her eyelids are still covering most of her hazel eyes, but I only need a glimpse of them to understand she's as scared as I am – probably more.

Her emotions scare me more than my own. When I don't return to her lips right away, she opens her eyes fully, and for a moment, our situation is really awkward.

Emma saves our situation by lifting her head to kiss my check and I know everything is fine between us.

"I really do need a nap, though," Emma whispers, regret in her voice. "If not, I really will explode."

I move from above her and sit back on the bed. "Fair enough."

Silence fills the air between us. I don't know whether I should stay or go.

I should probably go. Emma will have a better sleep without me in here.

Plus, I need to tell Father we won't be staying for dinner before he makes more than necessary.

I start to rise from the edge of the bed when I realize Emma is looking at me longingly. "Would you like to accompany me?" She lightly throws my words back at me.

But they're not funny.

The words freeze me and I can't move. I'm sure Emma notices, because she forcefully pulls me back down and moves my arms so they are around her. They are in the same position they were in last night, my head between her shoulder and her neck.

"What are the chances Jiminy will find us?"

"Pretty high," I whisper. "But I promise he won't yell at either of us this time."

"Ok," Emma's words are barely audible. "Good," she says and I feel her she's drifting off.

I don't have time to cherish the moment with Emma in my arms before I feel my eyelids closing and my body shutting down.

I am woken up in more perfectly than one could every imagine:

With Emma's soft lips on mine.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Emma says too loudly as she watches me adjust to the light.

"Tell me it's not actually morning."

She lets out a small laugh. "Of course not!" Emma pulls me up by my arms, much like she would a puppet.

And I am so tired, I react in the same way my puppet self would; unable to support myself, my back not yet stiff enough to sit up.

"Come on!" Emma has managed to pull me up. She moves my legs over to the bed and down so they're touching the floor. I lean my head on her shoulder and she laughs at me. "Why are you acting like a kid who doesn't want to get up in the morning?"

"Because," I say, exhaustion in my voice, "I want to go back to bed."

Emma moves away from me, forcing me to support my own weight, it's the first time I've completely open my eyes since waking.

Emma looks different.

Her hair is pulled back into a top ponytail, her curls still floating around her shoulders. With a second glance, I realize she has put make-up on.

Our date!

I can't believe I forgot. I never realized how slow I am in the mornings.

I stand and quickly walk to her. "I'm sorry," I say to her impatient face. "Going to bed is the last thing I want to do right now." I hope my words turn her slight frown into a smile. After a moment, they do and I lean in for a quick kiss.

She puts her hands on my checks as I kiss her and keeps my face close to hers as I pull away. Emma looks seriously at me and says, "I'm excited for our date."

I put my hands on her shoulder blades, "So am I," I say softly. We are stuck in that position for a long time. I wonder if we are frozen from fear or anticipation. I feel the butterflies resurfacing in me and guess our immobility is a mixture of both. I raise my eyebrows, "Shall we go?"

"Yeah," Emma releases me. "Yeah, we should go."

Emma leads the way downstairs. We pass Jiminy and Father playing cards in the kitchen and quietly make it through the front door without disturbing them.

I hesitate before we go off the porch, Emma almost tripping as she keeps trying to lead me away.

"I should probably tell them I'm leaving," I whisper.

Emma walks backwards until we are face to face. "I left a note for them in your bedroom," she whispers back with a knowing smile.

"You're amazing," I tell her.

Emma shrugs her shoulders. "I know."

Seriously, does she know how cute she is?

I take her hand and lead her to my bike.

We stop when we reach it. I pick up her other hand, "You ready?"

"Couldn't be more ready," she almost laughs at my seriousness. "Are you ready?"

No.

Is the first thought that comes to mind.

"Wait," I look to Father's garden and release her hands. "Just a moment."

Emma looks perplexedly at me while I bend down to his flowerbed.

I pick a red tulip for Emma and offer it to her. "You look beautiful."

Her hands brush over mind as she takes the tulip from me. Her lips widen as a small blush reddens her checks. "Thank you." I kiss her check, but she pulls away quickly. "But can we go now?"

I shake my head back and forth at her dismissal of my actions. I motion to my bike and hop on after she does.

We don't say anything else as I drive out of Storybrooke.

I wonder if Emma notices the number of townspeople watching us as we pass them on our way out of town.

Or, most importantly, I wonder if she notices the person who is making eye contact with me through my mirror this very second.

Because it's the one person who asked me not to take his Mother outside of Storybrooke.

* * *

A/N: Fluffyness is actually easier to write than seriousness - New discovery for this author :D. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter as much as I did writing it because it's the last for a week as I am once again going on vacation. Oooh, don't be disappointed I'm pretty sure I've given you four updates in the last seven days. _:D Have a great week everyone!_


	16. Though The Pressure's Hard To Take

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 16: Though The Pressure's Hard To Take_

While the drive to the restaurant is silent, my thoughts are noisy, crowding my mind with worries. I don't know if Emma saw Henry through my mirror, but somehow I doubt it because her body relaxes against me, leaning into it, and the last thing she is probably thinking about is her son. Emma's obliviousness to the situation only make my worries more pronounced.

However, her excitement now moves quickly through her body as I pull into Chantey's Lobster House's parking lot. She removes herself from my bike as fast as she can to take in her surroundings. The building is lit up with red and white lights, lighting up the back patio area as well as making the entrance inviting.

The worries pressing on my mind are still bothering me as I dismount my bike. However, when Emma is done surveying the area, she returns to me with a smile. Her warm, soft smile has the power of making me forget my troubles, especially after she reaches for my hand.

We don't loosen our grips as we enter and walk up to the hostess. I say, "Two please," and we are quickly led to our seats.

Her hand reaches keeps a strong grip mine. Emma is not usually one for public displays of affection or one to hold on to me so tightly and I wonder if she's nervous.

Our table is in the perfect spot: on the edge of their patio in the corner, surrounding by evergreen trees, in a place where we can hear the brook running past us on the forest floor.

Emma fumbles with her napkin and her silverware after we sit down, placing the napkin on the table and then on her lap and then back onto the table again.

"You're nervous," I notice quietly.

Emma's head snaps up at my words and her eyes narrow, peering into me – questioning if I'm mocking her or not.

In one brusque movement, Emma takes her napkin from the table and presses it down in her lap.

When she relaxes and looks back at me, I admit, "I'm nervous, too."

There is gratitude in Emma's face and I see some relief come to her at my confession.

"Okay, but I have reason to be nervous," she pauses. "You, how-"

"I, however, don't?" I ask, trying to keep my cool. I place my elbows on the table and lean closer to her. "Tell me, Princess," I say seriously. "Why shouldn't I be nervous? I have just as much reason to be scared and nervous as you are." She meets my eyes at my words and I add. "If not more."

Somehow, I can tell my words erase the thoughts from her head. It's about time, too, since Emma so frequency leaves me speechless.

Emma leans in close, matching my ardent position on the table. "But," Emma takes a deep breath. "Sometimes I-" She stops again. "I-I wonder how much we're risking for this relationship. My family. Your family. Sometimes I think we naïve about us and sometimes I think we're not taking us seriously enough."

Us. This relationship.

Her words play over and over again in my head.

My fingers softly move up and down her left arm.

"And that's all second to the fact that you are one of only two people stable in my life right now. You and Henry, I don't trust anyone else. I've been thinking about how much I need both of you and how much you both could easily be in trouble."

Emma turns away as fear and sadness form in the contours of her face, tears form behind her eyes.

I squeeze her hands in mine, hoping the strength of her touch would bring her back to me. It doesn't. Emma's head remains turned, and her look remains far away.

I take a deep breath, my stomach tangles up again and before I can help myself, I say, "You've gone 28 years without me. I'm not worried about you."

Emma catches my depth in my face and my meaning in my voice. "Well, I'm worried about you," Emma states strongly.

"Emma," I beg for understanding. "After 28 years of not having you in his life, your Father has a right to be selfish with you."

"No," Emma raises her voice. "He doesn't. I don't understand him. It's not like I'm Ariel, threatening leave him or his ocean. He's not King Triton losing his daughter. There is no reason why you and I shouldn't be together. My father and I can still spend time together if we're together. I'm not growing a tail and moving under the sea for you." I raise my eyebrows at her reference and she explains, "Just trying to speak you people's language."

Our waiter interrupts, "May I take you order?"

We tell him our orders; he takes our menus, and disappears.

Emma turns back to me and smiles warmly.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask hoping to forget our previous topic.

Her face lights up, "Always," she answers sweetly.

I take a deep breath, memorizing the light in her face because I know it will be gone soon. "What was in that box that was so heartbreaking?"

As I predict, some of the color leaves her face along with her smile. "Pinocchio," she begs me not to ask.

I insist, not because I want to pry, but because I want to help. If I can understand what was so important to keep private between her and her parents, I might be able to help her discover what she can share with them.

"Nothing." Emma says quickly.

"Oh," I don't turn mad or accusatory, but hurt forms in me. "I thought you trusted me."

"I do trust you," Emma jumps over my words.

"Then, what don't you want your parents to see? Old love letters?" I'm only joking, but her eyes widen at my words.

Old love letters? Really? While I can see how they can be private, I don't see how they can rip a family apart.

"Old love letters, report cards, medical records, police records," Emma's explanation to my confirmation makes my heart sink. It is worse than evidence of a few schoolgirl crushes. "Basically everything I did wrong, or everything that was ever special to me in the last 29 years I kept." She explains further. "Certain postcards, or pictures, or jewelry. You know," She raises her hand and jesters to me. "Any mementos from a lifetime, I'm sure you have some."

I smile, thinking of the couple of items I've kept throughout the years. My hat from when I was a boy comes to the forefront of my mind. "Of course I do."

"Okay, well judging from your smile, most of yours bring up happy memories. I'm betting you would have no problem with your Father raiding your stash."

I take a drink of water, the mystery of Emma becoming more and more unsolvable. "Why do you keep them then, if they don't remind you of happier times?"

Emma thinks about her answer before she responds; an unreadable expression comes to her face. "Some do," she says sweetly. "But the rest…They remind me of how far I've come, and I wouldn't want to forget how bad things were for me." There is a sparkle in her eye when she pulls down one of her invisible walls for me, allowing me to glimpse deeply into her soul.

Her words also ring true for my life, I realize, though only in shame. Emma has lived her life as journey, on a road, where she can grow and change and be proud of who she is and where she ended up. I look at her with new eyes when I realize I have done none of those things.

And this is the moment my soul chooses to fall in love with her.

I choke on my water when my feelings transform into thoughts. Emma looks at me with concern as I recover, making me feel even more foolish. All I can do is smile and nod at her, brushing her concerns off silently.

We are silent for longer than I am comfortable with and I work up the nerve to address something that's been bothering me. "Can I ask you another question?"

"I'm on the edge of my seat."

I relocate the twinkle in her eye. I boldly ask, "How can you forgive me and not your parents? We both abandoned you."

Emma keeps herself together. "I forgive you because you are not my parents. It wasn't your family or responsibility."

That's not the point. I know it was my responsibility. How can she not see it? "But-"

"No," Emma stops me, reading my thoughts. "There's a difference between being abandoned by your parents and by a seven-year-old boy." I try to contradict her; she quickly talks over my words. "I won't hear otherwise.

I know better than to argue with her. The selfish part of me is grateful, the man that's trying to come out of me knows I should really be taking more responsibility than she's letting me.

I take her insistence as chance to lighten the mood. "You don't wish we could have run around the world as a pair of fairytale orphans together?"

"No," Emma keeps the sparkle in her eye. "I'd want to leave that to Hansel and Gretel."

Her response surprises me. "Really?"

"Really." She assures me confidently. "If I couldn't have my parents growing up, I wouldn't have wanted my life any different."

My eyebrows furrow at her. Her words are to believe, knowing how hard her life was.

Before I can respond, our food comes. It looks delicious; we both ordered seafood. Emma smiles at the waiter as thanks and then looks excitedly at her food.

"How can you have no regrets?"

Emma looks up from her food. From the look on her face, she thinks her answer is obvious. "Because then I wouldn't have Henry." She smiles knowingly at me. "Plus," Her tone changes to a light, mischievous one. "Having Pinocchio following me around all the time would've just slowed me down."

I act hurt, but soon my smile breaks through my face. "Hey! You underestimated me, Princess. I would've been a perfect sidekick."

Emma laughs at me. "You think so, huh?"

"I know so." I tell her, acting insulted.

Emma laughs again, washing away my insulted face, leaving me staring at her with at a smile.

The rest of dinner is perfect, filled with laughter. I share some of my adventure stories, and while Emma steers away from any painful memories, she tells me some of her favorite movies growing up, and what songs she liked to listen to on the radio.

We ride into Storybrooke at eight o'clock. Emma insists I drop her off at her house even though I think it's dangerous.

"It's a proper date, with flowers and everything." Emma informs me as she rests her chin on my shoulder while I try to concentrate on driving. "You will drop me off at my house and kiss me goodnight."

I turn my head back to her. "You are ruining the end of date nervousness – already insisting I kiss you goodnight."

My words finish when we ride up to her house. The kitchen lights are bright through the windows and they feel them warning me.

I stare at the light longer than I should, I never see any silhouettes, but I swear I can feel eyes on me.

Emma's oblivion is clear when she lightly jumps off my bike with a smile.

I don't move from my seat, taking off my bike helmet as she approaches me. Despite what she said moments ago, her nervousness reappears and she starts playing with the end of one of her curls.

I've never seen her do this before. It's cute.

"So," Emma starts. "Thank you for dinner, I had a great time."

"So did I." I say breathlessly as her face comes closer to mine.

"Really?" She asks, clearly unsure.

"Really." I tell her confidently. "Best date ever."

"It better be." Emma's spunkiness returns.

Emma leans in to kiss me, but I pull back. "Goodnight, Princess Emma."

"Hey!" She stands up straighter, clearly missing her kiss. "You can't call me that here."

I shrug my shoulders. "Well, we can't kiss here either, so-"

Her lips are on mine the next moment before I can refuse her. Part of me is glad she made the evening complete. As our lips grasp each other's I can't regret our kiss goodnight. I reach my hands down to her lower back as she continues to lean over me still sitting on my bike.

"What the hell is this?" An angry voice yells from the yard.

Emma breaks from me and stands up straight. She doesn't turn, though, even when we both here footsteps coming closer to us.

"I told you they would come back to Storybrooke." I can't see Henry, but I know he's begging his grandfather not to do something.

We don't even have seconds to make a decision.

"Don't go," Emma whispers quickly.

"Emma," I beg, knowing the worst is coming.

"No," she says strongly and holds me to my bike. "We're in this together. You're not going anywhere I'm not going."

I think fast. "Don't be angry with them, Emma. They love you."

Tears are forming in her eyes. "I love-"

But that's all I hear. In a spilt second, I manage to raise my eyes long enough to see Prince James' spell coming at me.

The next second, I wake up to bright sunshine in my face, in a forest I don't recognize.

* * *

A/N: Well, at least Prince James can keep his promises, I know I promised this chapter a week ago. :P This chapter was a bitch to write, I deeply hope my work was worth it. Many reviewers were looking forward to Charming's cathartic moment - I hope at least some of you are happy with it.


	17. It's The Only Way I Can Escape

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 17: It's The Only Way I Can Escape_

Sunshine beams into my eyes as I try to adjust to my surroundings, forcing my sensitive blue eyes shut.

Your other senses have more depth and range when you lose your vision. I become aware of the dirt moving into my scalp as I keep my position on the forest floor. My hands feel the dust off the dirt and the fallen leaves that have taken up a temporary home on the floor until the wind carries them away. Although my instinct tells me I have no chance of turning back to wood, I don't dare try to move my limbs. For some reason, I need to be frozen here, wherever I am, paralyzed. If not because of Prince James' punishment, than because of my own.

How could I be so stupid? Jiminy was right, I did not give serious thought to Prince James' threats. I wonder now if I even respected him at all. Shame fills me, despite my current predicament. If I truly was serious about Emma, wouldn't I have taken her family just as seriously? I had to know that, despite her upbringing – or lack there of – Emma's family would always come first.

Emma's image and voice comes into my mind at my thought. I hear her fighting my last statement. I have had enough conversations with her to know she would probably tell me she didn't care about what her parents thought; only Henry and me mattered to her. While her words would warm my heart, I know now we were tempting fate. I kept allowing her to disregard her parents' wishes, allowing her to choose me over them only to calm my own insecurities. Emma would probably argue that point too, but the more I think about it, the more I come to accept it as fact. Some part of me, deep down, was afraid Emma would abandon me, just like my Father did, leaving me alone once again.

Didn't Jiminy tell me this too? Our common abandonment issues were part of the reason we were attracted to each other. I note the irony, because as much as I feared Emma might choose her parents over me, I know I could never abandon her or leave her again.

My eyes pop open when I remember my promise to myself. I look at the blinding sunlight through the forest's trees and remember I've abandoned her again.

Damnit!

It's only now I become enraged. I still don't move, but feel the blood boil beneath my self-confined limbs. For once, abandoning Emma, failing Emma was not my choice. All my guilt over my previous abandonment and failing is nothing to my feelings now. How dare Prince James' physically remove me from everyone I care about? He must know how much I regretted last time I left, and I'm sure he knows how it feels to separate parent and child.

Suddenly, Father's expression upon seeing me alone for the first time in 28 years appears in my head. The combination of my regrets along with how much I miss him makes me ache. He is one of the best fathers in the universe, across all of its lands.

Speaking of which, I turn my head in both directions, but I still don't know what land I am actually in. Did Prince James send me back home, to Fairytale Land, or did he exile me out of Storybrooke? I remember him saying he had been working on the spell for a nonfriend, whatever that meant. Would he want his nonfriend sent home, where there would be a chance they would meet again, or would he want his nonfriend to be sent out of Storybrooke, never able to be part of the Fairytale world again?

It depends on if this person really was just a nonfriend or an actual enemy.

I decide to make a plan, form a clear perspective on my current situation before sitting up and discovering where I am. I don't want my judgment to be clouded.

My first priority has to be Emma. Oh, Emma. I can't think of her now without thinking of my abandonment. My pride on moving past my first abandonment of her and being able to interact with her in the moment makes my current devastation and regret sink below what was what during our very first argument at our tree. My job is to protect her, and I realize I never have, not truly. I've caused more pain that I have helped prevent.

Emma's voice echoes in my head again, telling me it's not true, telling me I've been the source of happiness, of light in her life, when Henry isn't around.

Still, when I have pinned myself to the forest floor, I can't help pitying myself.

However, I don't let myself stay depressed very long. Quickly I imagine a plan. If I am outside Storybrooke, I am assuming I can call her. For the first time, my fingers move to my pockets. Sure enough, I feel my cell phone in my right pocket, my wallet in my left. I smile at the touch. If I'm in America, I at least have options.

If I'm in Fairytale land, however, the only good thing I can think of is that I'm more of a nonfriend, than an enemy, and I think at this point, I'd rather be that. I'd rather be sent to a place where everyone in Storybrooke was trying to return to than somewhere everyone in town would run from. Another positive point about being in Fairytale Land is I can be the person on the other end on the tunnel, one might say. I could be the person who helps all the fairytale characters – especially Emma – find their way home again.

My second priority is Prince James. I haven't done anything to him for two reasons: I pitied him. While his words or actions haven't been eloquent, they were from a man who just realized he had lost and regained everything in a single moment. I don't regret forgiving for that. What I do regret, however, is not taking his threats seriously. I thought his love for Emma would blind him and anything she would want or need he would give to her, just like a new father would.

His love for Emma did blind him, in a way, just not the way I thought or assumed it would. Prince James' love for his daughter blinded him to the point he couldn't see what was good for her.

I don't even fault him for being blind. I fault him for acting on his fears instead on his hopes. I fault him for acting more like David while still expecting to be treated like Prince James.

No matter what land I am in, I have decided to find a spell and give him a taste of his own medicine. I wouldn't want to exile him off to a distant land, like he did me. I would never do that to Emma. My train of thought halts for a moment. What do I want from him? I want him to listen. Wouldn't our problems be solved if Prince James and I could have a respectful conversation? My hope isn't that far-fetched: we almost had one productive conversation before he ruined it with threats I didn't listen to.

Once again, anger sparks out of my brain and painfully runs through my body. During that conversation, we almost reached the point of agreement that I was good for Emma. If only he looked past his fears or insecurities about his daughter, and remembered before he made the rash decision to banish me.

His impulsiveness sets my decision in stone. Even if, for some reason, I can't find magic, I will fight back. His threats and actions will match mine. If I can't freeze him in place by magic so that he will listen, I will tie him up somehow and force him to listen; only letting him go once we come to a mutual decision.

And if we can't, I'll be happy to leave him tied up forever.

I smile at the image.

Hey, Emma wouldn't mind, she can still have a Dad to talk to.

I am still smiling at the thought, almost laughing actually, when I hear footsteps approaching me.

"Pinocchio." A sweet voice whispers my name.

I sit up quickly, torn between hope and fear. I know the voice. Despite my hope that it's Emma's – I know it isn't. My hope turns to gratefulness as I realize who has come to me.

There, standing in front of me, is my Blue Fairy.

I call her mine, because she has always been my fairy and always will belong to me. Yes, that is selfish, but when it regards her, I don't care. She is too pure, too angelic to be taken down, even a little bit, by my own selfishness.

She smiles as if she knows my thoughts.

I met her eyes and I'm pretty sure she does.

"I've missed your innocence, Pinocchio. Thank you for putting a smile on my face today."

I finally sit up. Leaves fall from my backside as I rise. "My innocence?" I ask, as if I haven't heard her right. "I don't think my innocence put me in this situation."

The Blue Fairy smiles sweetly at me, as if she knows me better than I do myself. "Of course it is, my dear boy." I note her last word, realizing I only want my Father to still call me that. "Your everlasting belief to see the good in people is what landed you in your current state."

I don't respond: frozen at her words. My hands, in the dirt, support my back as I continue to sit up starring at her in awe.

"I regret that I wasn't there to help you through your families' situation. With everything's going on, I haven't looked after you the way I should have. The curse breaking has been a huge adjustment for everybody and I've had so many people coming to me for help that I put you in the back of my mind, not that's a good excuse."

"Why not?" I ask innocently.

"Because you will always be my special boy," she cries out. "I will always see you apart from everybody else. You must know this, Pinocchio."

Tears form behind my eyes and thankfully do not spill over at her words. Of course I know this, for it is the same way I feel about her. She is my one, special fairy. And the other fairies? Well, they don't love me the way she does.

If ever I had a mother, she would be it. We do love each other, even though we could never say so.

"I'm sorry I never came to you," I admit.

"And I'm sorry I never came to you!" She seems overly emotionally for the present situation and I suddenly wonder what she's not telling me. "I only found out everything this morning. I wish I knew sooner."

"Everything?" I ask, and my previous feeling between fear and hope arises back into me.

"Well, I talked to Jiminy yesterday and Prince James and Snow White came to me early this morning."

"How long have I been gone?"

"Three days," She says and my heart sinks. I think of my Father and how worried he must be. She reads my mind again, "Your father thought you had gone out town on one of your usual errands."

That makes sense, and I know The Blue Fairy can see my comprehension in my eyes. However, just then, her warm smile disappears from her face and I know she comes bringing bad news. "Something has happened." She announces.

Sadness and despair creep into her eyes and somehow I know it's about Emma. My dear Emma, who last time we saw each other we were on the edge of confessing our love for one another.

I haven't allowed myself to think of our moment until now. I knew whenever I did think of our last words to each other; my heart would break in a way I've never allowed it to before.

Still, I wonder if that memory or the fairy's next words will be the one to permanently break my heart.

She takes a deep breath, trying to hold herself together. "It seems Princess Emma is princess no more."

My body goes numb at her words. "What?"

Tears now fall down her face. "It is true. She seems determined to follow in her mother's footsteps – making her body cold in order to save the ones she loves."

"No!" I cry, tears suddenly come down my face. "It's not possible. Surely there's something we can do," I beg for a solution as my tears grow thicker and thicker.

"There's nothing you can do, my dear Pinocchio," The Blue Fairy whispers through her own tears. "Especially given where you are."

My tears stop for a moment, only to look longingly at her. "Where am I?"

* * *

A/N: Is he a "Nonfriend," sent back to Fairytale Land or an "Enemy" sent out of Storybrooke, never to return again? Or perhaps he is somewhere he hasn't thought of yet. Readers will already know or have a good guess where he is if they read carefully! As for Emma, well, at least we know nothing worse can happen...right?


	18. Seems A Heavy Choice To Make

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 18: Seems A Heavy Choice To Make_

My Blue Fairy doesn't have answer my question. I look at her with new eyes, kicking myself for not noticing it sooner.

She's standing in front me. Standing. Not flying.

Of course we're not in any type of magical land. Apparently, we're stuck here forever, on this worn-out Earth without our savior.

For the second time today, I ask myself: How could I be so stupid? I am not sure how many times I've thought the question subconsciously today, probably constantly.

Since Emma has broken the curse, our time together has been spent navigating the waters of our relationship, instead of trying to find our way home. I know I have noted my concerns about the curse before, but somehow I rationalized my actions-or non-actions-as my only choice. Since I met Emma, or was reintroduced to her in Storybrooke, I have noticed I am much better as her emotion support than as a curse-breaking sidekick.

I never thought our consequences would be played out so badly.

Of course, I never think. My impulsiveness is who I am. I wonder if fairytale characters are just cursed creatures in general. Will I always be a naïve, selfish liar? Have I not tried hard enough to breakthrough and beyond the person I am? Have I just accepted my fate instead of fighting to make my own?

Was Emma right? Is it a good thing to try and cheer Grumpy up? I told her Grumpy will always be grumpy, and that's part of his charm. However, now, thinking about him as a person, I realize he has the same right as anybody else to be happy.

"You're in a redwood forest," The Blue Fairy tells me sadly. "In California."

California? The forest is on the opposite end of the country to Storybrooke. I am hated more than I thought. I am…"I am an enemy of the Prince." I finish my thought out loud to my fairy.

"On the contrary," The Blue Fairy says lightly. "You're his only hope."

I sit up taller at her words. "What are you talking about?"

"I believe you can reawaken Emma."

Her words give me enough hope to stand, the first question I have spills out of my lips, "Why didn't you start with that?" I challenge her.

She lets out of laugh I'm sure she didn't what to escape. Then she turns serious again. "I'm not sure it'll work. Most of the time, curses are broken accidentally, as a result of pure love, not as a manipulation for two families to forgive one another."

I feel a protest enlightening in my body. "Who says it would be that?" I raise my voice to my only mother figure. "I could come in and try to wake her without anyone knowing!" We stare at each other for a long moment; I am trying to convince her of my idea while I see her making a list of everything that could go wrong in her mind. Suddenly a little face appears in my head. "Henry!" I yell out. She looks at me sadly, I don't understand why. "Henry could try and wake her up!"

See? I am growing. I can stay here, in California, exiled, and the savior can still be awakened. Henry would want to save her; he should be the one to do it.

And me? I am beginning to think I better off here, in the California Redwood Forrest. I like it here more and more by the minute. Besides, people are better off without me. The only people who need me are Father and Jiminy. Emma says she needs me, I know, but all I do is distract her from the curse. Henry and the rest of her family will be happy when Emma returns to them without me.

"They don't want Henry to know," The Blue Fairy announces.

"What?" I blurt, not understanding. How can her son not know? Hasn't it been three days? "How can they keep her state a secret? Where does he think his mother is?"

She takes a moment to answer. A gust of wind blows her unbuttoned overcoat open. "Henry's grandparents told him Emma went to find you."

"Of course they did." My statement was supposed to be only a thought; but my sarcasm and anger are now clear to the Blue Fairy. Like the best mothers, she doesn't add fuel to my fire by talking; she waits until I've cooled down. Another thought riles me up. "Surely, Prince James and Snow White have tried waking her up themselves."

Despite my heighten annoyance; the fairy keeps her regulated tone. "It doesn't seem to be working."

Then why are we even having this conversation? "Then clearly my attempt wouldn't work. Surely you know this, there's nothing purer than a parents love."

"Nothing purer, perhaps." She says sternly, and then a twinkle comes to her eye. "But I can think of something truer."

Once again, my thoughts roll of my tongue without my permission. "You can't be serious."

"That's not the attitude I was hoping for, Pinocchio," The Blue Fairy says with disappointment.

Shame fills for me for a moment, but then I fight it with confidence. I stand up straighter, walking towards her, leaning into her slightly when I stop. "Am I missing something? Because the way I see it, her parents already tried waking her up. If they can't do it, why should I be able to? Besides," I take a deep breath, preparing to challenge her. "If you really believed I could make a difference, than you would have brought me to her already instead of offering me empty words."

She steps back from me, and I can tell I've hurt her. "You can make a difference, Pinocchio!" She cries, "I know you can!"

"Then why are we still here?" My abrupt attitude shift surprises her. "Take me to Storybrooke, and I'll try to wake her up."

"I can't!" She cries.

"Why not?" I ask angrily, now annoyed she has informed me of the news without having a plan to rescue Emma or me.

"Because Prince James exiled you outside of Storybrooke, only he can allow you back into it. It's his spell."

I stare at the fairy. She becomes smaller to me. Despair comes into both of us.

"My spell. My mistake" I hear Prince James' voice from behind me. "Magic always does a price, doesn't it?"

I turn my body to around to meet him.

I've never seen a man so broken.

My promise to myself to slam him against the nearest tree, tie him up, and yell at him for his crimes – yes, crimes – falters when our eyes meet.

I force myself to freeze. What would a brave man do? Emma comes to my mind. She's the bravest person I know. Then I think of Mulan and Henry and Aladdin and Snow White.

Somehow, I combine all of these people together and mange to keep my mouth shut (for once in my life) and look at him as both a little, insignificant creature and as an equal at the same time.

I cross my arms and wonder if that's even possible or if I think of myself as an insignificant creature.

Right now, it doesn't matter. This is the stance I've taken and I'm not going back.

I do not break eye contact with the Prince, making him feel smaller and smaller by the second.

"I'm sorry," Prince James' desperation comes out.

I laugh at him, in my head. I manage to keep a straight, cold face. Then I realize I'm proud of myself.

I can be more than what I'm supposed to be.

I want to look at the Blue Fairy, showing off my pride and behavior to her, but don't. Instead I continue to stare him down, clearly unsatisfied with his apology.

"Please, help me," He begs in front of me.

"Help you?" The disgusted words come out of my mouth before I can stop myself. I am mad at myself for the slip, but quickly regain my brave face.

"Pinocchio," The Blue Fairy whispers.

My arms fall out of their crossed position. I remind myself not to be too cocky either. My brave face disappears, only for a second, when I look at my fairy, then it returns.

"I was wrong," Prince James starts. "I, as Snow White's true love, tried to separate our daughter from her chance of love. I wouldn't have listen to anybody who told me to stay away from my Snow. To expect anybody to stay away from a person who they care about," he pauses, takes a deep breath, then adds, "or even loves is unrealistic. If someone told me 29 years ago what I would do, how I would cause my daughter pain, I wouldn't have believed them. I don't know if my actions were a lasting result of the curse or because I am adjusting to fatherhood, but either way, they are inexcusable."

I don't speak.

"I deeply sorry, Pinocchio."

"You should be apologizing to Emma," I say firmly, still with my cold confidence.

"I know," The Prince says. "And I wish I did, while I still could."

His regretful words make me sick, not because of Emma's current state, but because I interpret them as pathetic.

Now I only look at him as a helpless little creature. "How do you think I can help you?"

Prince James looks back at the Blue Fairy. "I assume you told him," he confirms with her.

But I won't let him. I speak before she has a chance to confirm. "She informed me,"  
I tell him, emotionless. "If everything she's told me is true, I don't see how I can help."

The little hope he had drains from his face as he looks at me. "You can try." A tear falls from his eye. "Please, there's nothing more powerful than true kiss."

True Love's Kiss.

That's the first time the saying has actually been spoken aloud, instead of alluded to today.

Wait. Does that mean he is acknowledging my romantic relationship with Emma?

Not that I have a relationship with her now.

"I'll help you," I concede. I give in for Prince James, Snow White, and especially for Henry, but not for me. I truly believe Emma's life would be better, less complicated, without me. "But not for you or myself. I am going to help save Emma so Emma can save everybody else."

Some stress leaves his body. "That's all I ask," he says with a slight smile.

I don't understand how he is relived. At least half of me is convinced my efforts won't work, but I remind myself to stay confident.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" My face demands his explanation.

"I truly don't know. All I know is we went to wake her yesterday morning and she wouldn't wake."

I wait for more explanation, even looking to the Blue Fair to add something, but the Californian forest is quiet.

"What happens if I can't wake her up?" I reluctantly ask.

"Then we're all screwed." His words bring to mind Emma's last words she used after our first fight.

I want to ask what will happen to me if I can't wake her, but decide against it, since its undoubtedly selfish.

"So, are you going to take me to her?" I ask, impatiently.

Prince James notes my attitude with a disapproving expression, but decides to ignore it. "Let's go," He says, confidently.

Without any more hesitation, Prince James takes an object out of his pocket and throws into the air in front of him. To my amazement, it makes a door, a kind of passageway. I walk closer to it and can see Storybrooke on the other side.

"After you," He gestures to both the Blue Fairy and to me. Then, I realize I have no idea how she came to me in this forest. I guess it was probably by ways of her own magic.

I follow my favorite fairy through the passageway, walking straight through it into Emma's room.

I take in two sights before Prince James' enters the room behind me. Emma, who is laying peacefully and beautifully but hauntingly still, and my Father's cuckoo clock, which is positioned on her nightstand, now counting the minutes of her ultimate sacrifice.

Both the sight of Emma and her cuckoo clock break my heart; as if each had a side of my heart, pulling it in opposite directions.

As the tears start falling from my face, I walk towards Emma on the side of her bed where the nightstand is, and hear, "Thank God you're here," from Snow White.

But I don't look back at her. I kneel down close to Emma as I wipe the hair out of her beautiful face.

My stomach quickly swirls into huge knots as I prepare for what I am going to do next. I want to analyze it, want to figure out what the fallout of my actions will be, but I can't. When I look at Emma's peaceful, perfect face, there's only one thing I can do.

So, like many before me, I lean down to kiss Emma's lips.

* * *

A/N: :) All I have to say is, IF his kiss doesn't wake her, it won't be because his love isn't true. Thanks again for all the alerts, favorites, and reviews. They really do mean so much. It's an honor that people are still reading and enjoying my story. _Thanks so much. Until next time!_


	19. But Now I Am Under

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 19: But Now I Am Under_

My eyes close as I lean down to her, a final tear escaping down my face. My lower lip opens her mouth wider when it goes in between lips. My top lip presses a loving force onto hers.

There's something different about this kiss, even though Emma is not kissing me back, I feel the same sensation I always do when I kiss her; the magical feeling Emma's lips provide, the sensation I haven't felt from anyone else's kisses. I can't describe it exactly, but I realize for the first time, I am giving the magical sensation to Emma. I hold my lips to hers longer, pouring all my love I have into her body.

Without my conscious' permission, my lips release Emma's, and my eyes open. I continue to lean over her, watching her beautiful face, waiting for her to open her eyes.

She doesn't.

No.

No!

No….

"Emma!" The fear in my voice is too hard to conceal. As a result, the others in the room, the ones I forgot about, the ones depending on me, cry out in horror.

Prince James and Snow White, who gave me space while I triedto wake their daughter, quickly push me aside as they embrace Emma's still frozen body.

My feet trip over Emma's purse on the floor and I fall to the ground. I lean against a wall, pounding my head against the cement. Tears have never been released out of body to this extreme before. I am alien to the feeling.

I have blocked everyone else out from the room except for Emma. I watch her still body through my tears. When the Blue Fairy walks over to comfort Snow White, blocking Emma from view, my eyes drift to an object on the floor.

Her purse.

An object rolled out after I tripped over it.

A small glass vile.

The vile is in arms' reach. Through my heavy tears, I lean forward and pick it up silently.

It is completely empty.

How dare she take such a powerful potion and not leave even a drop for me.

Part of me wants to search her purse, to find something to cause as much damage as she's caused.

As much as my brain tells my arms to reach for her purse, my arms remain frozen. Something deep inside of me stops myself. It reminds me I have to be brave and unselfish.

A real man wouldn't reach for the purse.

That's as far as I can go, though. I am at a loss for what a real man would do after that. All I manage to do now is drop the vile and cover my tears with my hands as my body tears apart inside of me. I'm blind to the action in the room; my ears somehow deaf to the sounds of mourning.

Maybe it's seconds, maybe it's hours, but the Blue Fairy's declaration of "She's warm!" is the only sound that can break through my deaf ears.

Suddenly, my torn body ceases to tear. Her words ignite within me. The ignition releases my hands covering my tears and stops them from falling.

Cries of relief come from Snow White and Prince James. They whisper words of love and regret to Emma as they hold on to her. My eyebrows furrow at the picture. Something is still wrong.

"Emma?" I whisper, but no one hears me. I can't figure out what's wrong with what I am seeing; only that something is not right.

My eyes drift back to the empty vile I dropped on the floor.

"Why isn't she waking?" Snow White cries to the Blue Fairy. She turns back to her daughter and starts shaking her. "Emma! Emma!"

Prince James adjusts his position beside his daughter. One of his hands moves over his daughter's heart. "Her heart's beating," he says in awe. He looks at the Blue fairy. "Why is she not waking if her heart is beating?"

"I don't know." The Blue Fairy says softly, clearly bewildered at the sight before her. "I have never seen something like this before. We must remember that magic acts unpredictably in this world."

While I hear the words, my eyes don't move from the glass vile still lying beside me.

I pick the vile up again to examine it; not for it's liquid residue, but for it's physical qualities. I turn it over and over in my hands, noting the high quality of the glass. As I am rolling the vile in my hand, trying to figure out what I'm missing, I realize the bottom of the vile is facing me; a single letter scratched into it.

I stop rolling it, and bring the vile closer to my face.

Still, I need to squint to see which letter it is.

The worst letter possible: R.

My heart sinks for the hundredth time today as I call out, "Rumpelstiltskin," in anger.

Snow White, Prince James, and the Blue Fairy all turn from Emma to me at my words. I am still examining the vile when I feel their eyes on me. I quickly look up them to share my revelation.

"Rumpelstiltskin gave Emma that potion to put her in this state," I say, mentally preparing for a fight.

For the first time since arriving back to Storybrooke, Prince James makes eye contact with me. I met his eyes and I realize I am truly an ally of his now.

He releases his daughter when he stands from the bed to approach me. While the situation is serious, his face is as friendly as it can be as he holds his hand out for the vile.

I match his expression when I place the vile in his hands.

"Well," He starts soberly. "If there's anything I've learned, all of Rumpelstiltskin's magic can be undone."

The Blue Fairy walks over to where Prince James is standing. "Yes, but do we do if her state is due to Rumpelstiltskin's magic or if it's because magic acts unpredictability here?"

"Well," Prince James says and crosses to Emma's bedroom door. "There's only one way to find out."

"How?" Snow White asks, rising from the bed.

Prince James' tone is obvious. "Go to the source."

His words rouse everyone in the room, finally offering a mission instead of sitting around a bed of the unconscious.

All of us move to the doorway, ready to stand up to Rumpelstiltskin, but as we follow Prince James out the door, he suddenly halts.

"Wait," he turns back to look at us. "We can't leave Emma alone. Somebody has to stay with her, to be here in case she wakes." He pauses for a second and then realizes, "And to make sure Henry doesn't find her."

Anger swells within me at myself. My instinct to fight was stronger than my instinct to protect. While I'm sure fighting for the ones you love is admirable, it has never been my role.

Prince James curves his body around his line of soldiers. "Pinocchio, can you stay with her?"

My shock at his words, his change of opinion, prevents me from answering.

He trusts me enough to stay with his daughter? Alone?

Well, I guess I did bring warmth back to her body.

"No," Snow White says in a motherly tone. "I should really stay with her…" Her words trail off as she looks for her husband for instructions.

"I'm happy to," I try to reassure her. "It's my role to protect her anyways."

My words come out before I think about them. They could cause more trouble than relief, given the meaning behind them and our history.

There is silence between the four of us for a spilt second, my words clearly replaying in everyone's mind.

Snow White's smile of gratitude breaks the tension between us. I can't help smiling back at her. "Thank you," she says sweetly.

I nod and there's a moment of accepting my role in their daughter's life before they run down the stairs.

I stand in the doorway, reliving the moment. Did that really just happen? It feels like I just woke up, exiled in the Californian forest, never to see my loved ones again, and now I am being trusted to watch over their only daughter?

My grin can't leave my face. I have waited for this moment for weeks. No more sneaking around, no more reasons to lie. Now Emma and I can start to have a real relationship.

I turn back to Emma and my smile disappears. Her body is still frozen. Slowly I walk back to her, taking her mother's place beside Emma on her bed.

There's something different about her face now. Her features have changed somehow since I kissed her and warmth returned to her. I can't describe it exactly, but it's like she's more at peace, more beautiful than ever before.

I bring my hand to her face to move some of her hair off her forehead. My fingers comb out her hair, memorizing its softness. Tears resurface when I think of how my empty life is without her.

"Please come back to me," I whisper, pressing my forehead to hers. "I love you."

I pull back when I hear a deep inhale of air.

Emma's eyes are already searching for mine when I've recovered enough from the shock to look at her. I met her eyes and smile, while tears flow steadily down my face.

Her palm reaches up and rests on my check. One of my hands covers hers while the other goes down to her check.

"I love you too," she says with a smile. "I knew you would come back to me."

A small laugh of relief releases the rest of tension in my body.

Emma starts to sit up, when I realize what she's doing, I help her the rest of the way.

Before I know it, Emma's arms are around my neck and she's leaning in to kiss me.

I quickly mirror her actions, and our lips meet the next moment. I let the power of our kiss captivate me for a moment, but I quickly pull back. All I want to do is look at her. I need to look into her hazel eyes and feel her love in them. I need to feel her breath on my beard. I need to feel her heart beating so hard I can count the beats through her neck.

Emma has a perplexed look in her eyes as my hand moves down to her neck, the other one staying on her check. Sure enough, her heartbeats are strong. When I look back at her eyes, I find they're laughing at me, just as they have many times before. The hairs on my face move ever so slightly when I move close enough to Emma for her breath to pass over me.

We stay in this position for a while, with Emma's arms around my neck, holding me close, my fingers counting her heartbeats and feeling the blood beneath her checks. I hold her gaze, looking so closely in her eyes to see the pigmented color dispersed within them. Soon, though, I close my eyes, wrap my arms around the small of her back, and pull her closer to me.

Emma laughs in happiness. She moves positions so she kneels on her legs, fully moving into my arms. One of my hands reaches to the back of head.

I am still smiling, but I feel tears start flowing from my eyes again. The realization ends my smile and suddenly, despite that this moment is the happiest of my life, and start feeling sad.

I release my grip on Emma, and pull back so she's in arm's reach. My hand moves around her head, never losing contact, to rest on her check again.

Her smile disappears when she notices the tears on my face. She reaches for me, and her finger wipes away my new tears. "What's wrong?" Emma whispers softly.

I can't say anything while I am looking at her innocent face. I look everywhere but her eyes as I wrap a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

She smiles as if I've missed a funny joke that's just been told. Her innocent voice whispers, "Tell me."

I take a deep breath, still stroking her hair. "Tell me what happened, Emma. Did you really go to Rumpelstiltskin?"

Emma seems to be missing the seriousness of my words. With a smile, the innocence in her voice continues, "I had to bring you back to me."

Her words make me sick.

My eyelids slide shut, knowing I can't look at her anymore in this moment.

Through my darkness I hear, "Pinocchio!" Prince James' excited voice echoes up from the first floor. "He said once her body is warm, Emma decides when she wakes, it has something to do with using magic here and not at home." His voice comes closer. "I don't really understand-" His voice cuts off abruptly. "Emma?" Relief floods into it. "Oh, Emma!"

My eyes open to watch him going to the other side her bed, bringing his awaken daughter into his arms.

I stand, looking at the door, soon to see Snow White and the Blue Fairy running through it.

I can't be anywhere near this room anymore. The longer I am here, the sicker I feel.

My head moves so I see the only item in the room that doesn't cause me pain.

Father's cuckoo clock.

It tells me know what to do. Quickly and Quietly, I walk through Emma's door.

"Pinocchio?" Emma calls after me, longing in her voice. "Pinocchio, wait."

I manage to look back her before I leave, my eyes piecing through hers with anger.

* * *

A/N: And so Part II begins! Honestly, I was going to leave it at true love's kiss, but I have SO much more story to tell. Therefore, you get a cliffhanger rather than a resolution :0! A huge part of my decision is thanks to Anna (Don't apologize for writing a long review!). I haven't personal thanked reviewers in my author's notes, and find it sort of unfair (because every review is so special to me) to single out people, but her feedback influenced me so much, that I felt I should break my own rule. I welcome constructive feedback on my writing, especially helpful critiques. I have an outline of the next couple chapters, but if there's a scene anyone wants me to write, let me know, and I'll try to work it in!


	20. And It's Over And I'm Going Under

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 20: And It's Over And I'm Going Under_

By the time I reach my Father's house, some of my irrational anger as worn off. I reach the porch swing and am able to think more clearly.

However, I am still not able to process the savior's supposed sacrifice for me. Her decision to appear dead until I arrived to save her upsets me on two levels. First, as it should be first, Emma is the savior. She must save everyone and bring them home. The fact that she was willing to put the fate of Fairytale Land on hold because of me is something I cannot accept. Second, I don't quite know what my ability to wake her up means. Does it truly mean that I am the savior's true love?

I stop myself there and think of home, shamed. I have been living on Earth for too long. How can Fairytale Land be a place I call home if I am questioning true love? Memories of theory discussions I had growing up here come to mind. Natives of the Earth question true love, waiting for some answer to appear to them, not the inhabitants of Fairytale Land.

"Pinocchio?" I turn at Father's worried voice from behind the screen door.

"Hi." I stand up to greet him, the porch swing banging into the back of my legs, pushing me closer to him.

I am grateful he's worried but not emotional. His sunken eyes are the only feature that tells me he has lost sleep over my departure. Soon, I can't look at them, sadness and regret almost pushing me over my emotional edge.

I reached for him, my arms quickly around his back, and I feel his arms on my back, pulling me closer to him.

"Where have you been, my boy?"

"I'm sorry, Father," I whisper. "I came home as soon as I could."

Father pulls back, places a hand on my check as one hand brushes hair off my forehead.

"Never disappear again," his says warmly. His words aren't a demand, but a request. "My heart couldn't bear it."

Our eyes meet and hold one another's. "Neither could mine."

Finally, he smiles. I return his smile, but it's too overshadowed by my worries to make it convincing.

Father must see the anxiety on my face. He gracefully leads me back to the porch swing. He waits for me to speak.

"Have you ever been in love?" I ask him, then realizing my question is cliché.

We don't have enough father and son moments, though, having missed 28 years together.

Father sharply turns to me, surprised. "In love?"

"Yeah," I reply causally. "In love, complete with quicken heartbeats, no ability to think or speak straight, moments in which there is no air for you to breath?"

He gives me a look; Emma is brought into our conversation with a blink of his eye. I hope my face shows a look conveying how much I don't want to talk about her.

"You mean, other than the wife the Queen gave Marco in order for him to have something to mourn?" He answers lightly.

"Yeah," I match his smile. "I mean other than her."

His smile disappears as wonder comes to Father's face. He breaks eye contact with me to look away from the house to somewhere far off in the distance, his eyes unfocused.

"Yes," Father admits to me. "I was in love, once."

"Did they ever do something so unforgivable, that it put your whole relationship into question?"

My words pull Father from his trance, examining me, trying to figure out my question's motives.

Through furrow eyebrows, he asks, "Why are you asking me this?" His voice is stony. "What happened with Emma?"

Only, I don't want to talk about Emma. Though, my conscious reminds me, I probably should.

"I'm just wondering if true love is suppose to forgive anything."

"I don't think there's supposed-tos in love, Pinocchio." He places his hand on my check and runs his fingers through my unwashed hair. "You must do what your conscious tells to. If you forgive just because you think you're supposed to, you will end up regretting it forever."

I try to look him in the eye, but he won't let me. "Do you?"

Father leans back on the swing, causing it to rock back and forth. "Do I what?"

"Regret forgiving whoever did the unforgiving thing to you?"

Father quickly snaps his head in my direction. "What?"

"You're obviously talking about an old love of yours. Did you ever forgive them for whatever they did to hurt you?"

Father looks at me like I'm pressing into his deepest, darkest secrets. Then drifts off into his distance, unreachable place again. "I-"

"Pinocchio!" Jiminy yells from our front gate. "You're back!" He exclaims excitedly.

I rise from the swing in order to greet him. He's quickly up the stairs and in my arms, holding me tightly to him for a moment before letting go.

"It's so good to see you." He says with a smile, still holding on to my shoulder.

"You, too." I tell him.

There's a moment's pause. We look at Father, but the far-off look in his face has returned.

"So," Jiminy starts slyly. "I guess you were able to wake Emma up." I looked down at his mention of Emma. "Oh, come on, how can you be embarrassed? Your kiss of true love woke her up. Now, everyone has you to thank. You saved the savior."

"My job is to protect her, not to save her." I state firmly. "And I'm not embarrassed. I'm angry."

Jiminy's disbelief is evident on his face. "Why?"

"Why?" I repeat his words, in just as much shocked as he showed me. "How can I not be angry? Emma risked her life, the fate of Storybrooke, her relationship with her family, in order to save mine. How could she be so incredibility reckless?"

"Or incredibility romantic." Jiminy insists. "She had faith enough to know you would come back and save her. How much more romantic can you be?"

Father stands now. Fire is behind his eyes. "It's not romantic, Jiminy. It's Stupid. Incredibility stupid. What if Pinocchio wasn't able to wake her? Her body might have been cold forever."

Jiminy turns full front to Father. "Spoken like a true disbeliever. You never change."

"Hey!" Anger boils under Father's skin. I watch him trying to control it, but fail. "I believe in true-"

"Oh? Really? News to me!"

"-Guys-" I try to stop them arguing, but they seem to have forgotten my presence.

"I believe in true love, just as I've always done." Jiminy tries to interrupt again, but Father speaks over him. "How can I come from a world of magic and not believe in it? True love, though, isn't the point here."

"Of course it is!" Jiminy insists. "Emma wouldn't have put herself in that position if she didn't believe there was a way to recover from it."

"No!" Father says angrily. "The point is Emma put herself in that position in the first place! She is so selfish that she can't put other people's needs in front of her own. If Pinocchio wasn't able to wake her, we all would be stuck in this hell hole forever."

"But-" Jiminy starts.

"And what about me? As Pinocchio's Father and an enemy of Prince James, I would be the next one to be banished, probably never able to see Pinocchio or you again."

"Oh! Father!" I interrupt loudly. "I have news on that! Since waking up Emma, Prince James made me an ally, so I'm sure he doesn't consider you an enemy anymore."

"Witness the power of true love, Geppetto." Jiminy says with a little too much expression. "See, everything worked out."

Father shoots him a warning glance before walking to the screen door and opening it. "That doesn't mean Emma did the right, or romantic, thing," He announces his opinion as if it's the ultimate truth before going into the house. The screen slams behind him.

Jiminy watches Father through the screen door as long as he can, an unnamable sadness in his eyes.

I can't help asking, "Why are you sad, Jiminy?"

He turns to me from starring at through the door, his sad expression still etched on his face. "Perhaps for the same reason as you."

I blink. "What?" I'm completely confused. "I thought you said I shouldn't be angry."

He shrugs, "I didn't say that." Jiminy takes my Father's place on the swing. Instead of sitting with him, I lean on the porch railing. "Emma's actions were scary. I would worry if you weren't upset right now."

"But you just said-"

"It is romantic, Pinocchio. But you're allowed to feel what you feel. If you're upset or angry at Emma, tell her that."

"Did Archie ever read Romeo and Juliet?" I ask, knowing it is an out of the blue question.

Jiminy furrows his eyebrows, confused. "What?"

I focus on some chipped paint above Jiminy's head. "The play, by Shakespeare. It starts with two families hating each other. Shakespeare's opening line is 'Two households, both alike in dignity.' It ends with Juliet taking a potion to make her seem dead until her true love, Romeo, comes to rescues her."

"Pinocchio," Jiminy starts warningly.

"But Romeo, upon seeing his love dead, doesn't think to wake her or to ask for help. Instead he kills himself, because he is unable to imagine life without her." Jiminy puts his hand out, opens his lips in attempt to stop me again, but I continue. "Of course, being Shakespeare, he writes Juliet waking in the tomb moments after Romeo kills himself throwing her the chance to follow the actions of her true love."

"Why are you telling me this, Pinocchio?"

I ignore his question. "It's their children's double suicide that unites their families and brings back peace in Verona. Nothing else could ever do it, you see."

"Well that's why Shakespeare lived in the cold in England instead of in Fairytale Land. Writes at home would never write such an ending."

I roll my eyes at his suggestion. "Yeah, well, we'll see about that."

His eyes widen. "That's why you're mad at Emma!"

I cross my arms, finally looking at him from the chipped paint. "What?" I ask seriously.

"You are mad at Emma for acting like Juliet, immature and impulsive, instead of what? Brave and unselfish, just like you are striving to be?"

My eyes return to the blotch of chipped paint.

"You guys have been spending a lot of time together." Jiminy says in a hopeful voice. "You were bound to rub off each other somehow."

Anger rushes through my voice. "You know, those were not the qualities I wanted to rub off."

"Oh, come on," Jiminy stands and nudges me off balance. "Emma did what she thought was best. How can you be mad at her now? Just when you two finally have a real chance at being together?"

I start seriously, "How can she be able to risk everything, her son, her family, the fate of our world." Then my tone becomes light, almost mock-like, "Just because she can't find an easier way to bring me back to her."

Jiminy shrugs. "Fine, then." He comes closer to me as he walks towards the porch steps. He puts his hand on my shoulder again. "Stay mad. Your loss, just like your Father's."

I whip around when he brings Father into it, incredulously hearing his audacious comment.

Jiminy Cricket, however, is smart enough to disappear when the situation calls for it.

I turn back, leaning on the porch railing again, and cross my arms. My eyes quickly finding the chipped paint again.

My mind goes blank as I stare at the spot.

I don't know how long I stay in one position; long enough to watch the sunlight fall down across the uneven paint, I guess.

"I don't understand why you're mad!" I hear yelling from behind me.

Eyelids close over my eyes when I hear Emma's voice.

"I brought you back! My parents welcomed you into their home! I'm fine. I'm safe. I'm healthy! I just want you! You and Henry, I've told you a thousand times, are the only people that matter to me." I feel her body closer to me. "Come back to me." She whispers as she clings to my crossed forearms. "I love you so much. Just come back to me."

Her lips on are on mine before I know it. Her soft hands feel so good as they brush through my checks and go into my hair.

Still, my arms stay crossed.

I kiss her back until she breaks our contact.

"Open your eyes," she whispers close to me. "And look at me." Her thumb strokes my check again. "Please."

I refuse to give into her.

"Fine." She releases me fully. "I'll wait you out. You stay pissed as long as you want. I don't care if your reason is crap, I don't care if I don't understand why you won't even Look. At. Me," Her voice raises on her last three words. "I don't care. I'm staying with you. I'm standing with you. We're a team. Nothing can happen to us when we're together."

Her last sentence pisses me off so much I forget to hold my eyes shut.

Our eyes meet and she smiles. "Hi," she says sweetly.

I was right. I still can't look at her.

I stand off the railing, realizing my foot is asleep, and coldly walk closer to her. We are inches apart when I say, "You're playing with fire. You must know this." I look at her coldly, deeply, for one second, before walking away.

"No. Wait." She reaches for my arm, but I bring it out of her reach just in time as I open the screen door. I enter it and quickly slam the wooden door shut. "I'm still here." I hear her through the door. "I'm sticking with you. I'm out here, waiting for you. Always."

Always.

I lean against the backside of the door, listening to my true love express her undying love for me.

Father and Jiminy's voices come into my mind at the same time. Their different views on the subject put my heart and my head at war once again.

* * *

A/N: It seems August and Emma have switched places in their relationship. Wouldn't it be great if they could stay on the same page? If my readers share Emma's faith in their relationship, let me know and I'll try to make you happy with another update!


	21. But I'm Not Giving Up

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 21: But I'm Not Giving Up_

It only takes a moment for Emma to settle down into silence. Her silence worries quickly me that she has left, but then I hear her back fall back against the doorframe. I wonder if she knows that we are probably in the same positions on opposite sides of the wall.

A romantic person would argue our mirrored actions are another reason why we're soul mates, true loves.

It's nice actually. Not that Emma's pain is nice, but being together in silent is exactly what I need. It is so quiet I can hear Emma's breathing through the tiny crack in the door.

"Pinocchio?"

My head turns at Father's voice. I look up to see Father looking at me curiously, almost worriedly.

"Yeah?" Is all I can say, but the worry doesn't leave his face.

Father looks from me to the door and then back again.

"Is everything okay?" He asks, but tells me in his voice he already know the answer.

All I need to do is look back at him.

"Oh, Pinocchio," he sighs and bends down to sit next to me. He turns so he can lean his back against the wall, his hand resting on my knee. He whispers, "You and Emma will work this out. Two people who love each other always do."

My head rolls towards him on the wall. Our eyes meet. "Tell me what to do," my voice begs for an answer.

"I've already told you," Father voice is empathic when he talks. "I can't tell you what to do. You must let you conscious decide."

I break from him. "Maybe I don't have a conscious," I blurt out.

"Pinocchio!" He laughs through his sterner voice. "I doubt you could have made it here after 28 years if you didn't have a conscious."

I try to mirror his smile, but I can't seem to do it through my pain. While I try to hide it, I know my face is contorted from my heartache.

"Oh, my boy." Father brings his hand up to my hair, guiding me to rest on his shoulder. He kisses my hair. "It's not as bad as it seems, I promise you."

It is that bad. No one else might be able to see how the depth of my pain is justified, but to me, her actions were that bad.

Father continues to stroke my hair, and through that he gives me comfort. My eyes close so I can enjoy the moment. Moments like this are so rare between us, I have to cherish his touch. There's nothing else like it.

Still, after a few minutes, I tempt to break our silence. "She chose the moment when she would open her eyes, that's the kind of potion it was, I guess. She only opened her eyes only after I told her I loved her." Father doesn't interrupt my silence as I pause, giving both us time to digest the words. "On top of everything else, that makes me the sickest."

He still doesn't respond. I wonder if he still digesting or if he simply doesn't know what to say.

He is frowning when I finally turn to him.

"Say something," I request softly.

At my request, Father's whole face fills with sorrow.

Confused, I pull my head up and I furrowed my eyebrows at him.

His voice remains calm, and has hints of somberness in it. "You know, I was talking to Jiminy while you were gone. I was really upset at your disappearance and he was trying to calm me down. He kept reminding me that you did well by yourself the last 28 years and you could survive anywhere Prince James sent you." He takes a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts, while I wonder what his point is. "There are a lot of negative consequences to abandoning you and Emma, but learning to survive isn't one of them."

"What's your point?"

Love and warmth replace the sorrow on Father's face. "Emma has to protect herself too," he whispers.

Wait, now he is defending her?

I want to blurt out my retort, but don't as the warmth on his face comforts me.

"I know I said her actions were unacceptable, and they are. But," Father searches my face, trying to show how important his words are. "Imagine the situation from Emma's perspective. She's never known love her entire life. I don't blame her for making sure she can trust your love. The very fact she hasn't run, that she's outside our door waiting for you to forgive her is pretty incredible if you ask me."

I wondered if he knew Emma was here.

Father smiles and this time I can't help smiling back. "Oh, you're going to be fine." He pushes himself up, preparing to stand. He takes my face in his hands and gives my forehead a kiss. "My dear boy." We look at each other one last time before he stands. With his back towards me, he walks away.

Of course, before he disappears completely, he stops at the front door and unlocks it.

I let out a small laugh. Father definitely has the best sense of humor.

My smile is still on my face as my eyes move from the doorknob to the floor beneath me. I don't look at it very long, though. As my smiles fades, I lift my head to find a quilt hanging on the wall above our entrance table.

On a solid red cloth, white stitched letters read:

TRUE

LOVE

CONQUERS

ALL

My smile leaves my face. Looking back at the situation, perhaps I will laugh at its mockery. Now, its message pulls me to my feet.

Slowly I walk to the unlocked door.

Emma is on her feet before I have a chance to close it behind me. "Hi," she greets me again, just as sweetly as before.

I turn back from the recently closed door; finally meet her eyes and say, "Hi," softly.

We stare at each other for the first time since my angry eyes pierced through hers. Emma looks like an angel in a casual white dress with her perfect curls circling her face. Porch Light shines down on her, making a halo around her head.

"I know you're mad," she whispers. "I've been out here watching the stars come out, thinking about you, and I'd be upset too. It could be seen as a nasty trick to play. I never meant it that way. Honestly, all I ever wanted to do was to bring you home, back to me. I couldn't think of a way to do that without my Dad needing you, without ending the problems between our families." Emma steps closer to me, but doesn't risk touching me. She looks deep in my eyes, and whispers sincerely, "I am sorry, Pinocchio."

After her apology, I want to reach out and hold her to me, but I don't. Instead I walk to the porch steps, leaning my back against a wall of the house, and wait for her follow.

Emma sits on the opposite end of the step and leans against a pillar supporting the porch overhang.

"Thank you for you apology," I start. "But-"

"But that's not the only reason you're angry."

My answer is in my silence.

"I couldn't answer you," Emma reads my mind. "I wanted to, but I couldn't."

I turn to look at her. "What do you mean?"

"I felt trapped. It might have been that I felt uncomfortable waking up in front of everyone I'll admit to that." Emma looks down at her hands, playing with the ends of her white dress. "But it was more than that. I felt like I couldn't wake. I don't know if it was purely psychological or if it's because magic acts differently here, but it felt like a huge weight was on my chest, preventing me from breathing."

For a second, I wonder if she's telling me the truth, but fear emerges in her eyes and I know she's reliving the memory.

More longing is in my voice than I expect as I call her name. "Emma."

Suddenly Emma is at my end of the step, wrapping herself around me. She loops her arm through mine and leans her head on my shoulder.

"I love you," she declares again.

There is so much longing in her voice. I reach for her face, my hands are on her checks, bringing her face around so I can see it.

Tears are fighting to come out of her eyes.

"I love you too," I tell her.

Emma smiles a wide smile through her tears. She starts to lean in, and I met her lips with a passionate kiss.

Our arms stay wrapped around each other when our lips part. Emma returns her head to my shoulder and we stare up at the stars.

"You know," I whisper, not wanting to break the earthly magic the stars deliver. "There's another way to look at this."

Emma responds only with a "Hmmm," into my neck.

"This situation tells you that you are more like your parents than you thought."

"What?" Emma asks seriously.

"Well, you made your body cold to save someone you love," I whisper to the darkness. "That's using the phrase 'like mother, like daughter,' to the extreme, don't you think?"

I feel Emma's smile break even though I can't see it. The next second she's laughing out loud, her body shaking against mine.

Her head lifts and I meet her smile with my own.

"Don't expect me to call you Charming, though."

"Oh," my voice deepens as if the thought is disgusting to me. "Please don't."

"You don't like that name Charming?" She asks in a mocking tone.

My smile widens. "Let's just say, your Father is the only one who should have that name."

"Oh," she nods in mockery, her eyes rolling a little. "Ok."

I roll my eyes back at her, suggesting she's just as crazy as I am.

She laughs again and I follow, realizing happiness is easily found with Emma next to me.

I wonder if that's what true love actually means.

When Emma's laugh dies down, so does her smile and she turns serious. "So," she puts her palm on my check. "Are we okay?"

Her words halt all other thoughts in my brain.

I answer her seriously, "Only if you promise never to pull that stunt again."

"I promise," Emma tells me somberly. "Anyway," she adds in a lighter tone. "I doubt my Dad will ever do that to you again. So-"

"Emma," I warn her both with my stern voice and my serious eyes.

"So, we don't ever have to worry about it."

I let out a laugh of disbelief, realizing, "Henry was right."

"What?" Emma's smile fades as her son is brought into the conversation.

"We are acting like teenagers." I tell her as we look at each other. "Or at least, you are."

"Hey!" She nudges me into the house and points at me. "That's not fair. You're just as bad."

"I. Am. Not."

Emma rolls her eyes in response.

Now that we're not touching, thoughts come to mind other than Emma. Since things are settled between us, my other needs start to bother me. For the first time, I realize I haven't eaten in three days. My stomach growls in response. My head turns to see if Father is in the kitchen. My forehead crinkles in worry when I realize he isn't.

"Speaking of acting like teenagers," Emma starts. "My parents were wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner."

"Really?" I ask, surprised. "Is that the reason you came over?'

"No." She lies through her smile.

I shake my head back and forth. "Lying to Pinocchio, the liar of all liars, is a really stupid idea."

"Okay." Emma straightens her back and points to me again. "How many times to I have to tell you? You are not the liar of all liars. You suck at lying."

"That's only because spotting liars is your superpower. You know other people don't see right through me."

"And thank goodness for that!" She says, mocking me again.

I shake my head back and forth for a moment, and then realize. "Hey did we miss dinner?"

"What?" Emma's serious look returns to her face.

"Dinner. The stars are already out. What time do you usually eat?"

"Shoot!" Emma stands from the steps. I follow her actions. "Shoot," she says again, but then laughs at herself.

It's cute.

"I need to go."

"Yeah," I say in obvious tone. "Where's your phone?"

"I left at home! I didn't think I'd be gone for so long!"

Emma quickly walks to our gate.

I follow her. "How badly are they going to kill this time?"

"Not badly, I hope. At least they knew where I was." Emma stops abruptly causing me to crash into her. I put my arms around her to prevent her from falling. She turns around. "Hey, want to come over for dessert?"

She is so adorable in her ways to make up for silly mistakes; it takes all I have not to kiss her. "Sure," is all I can say.

I motion to my bike and Emma hops on, knowing it will be quicker than walking.

Within five minutes, I pull up in front of Snow White's house. Emma is off my bike running towards the door before I have time to turn off the engine.

I quickly jog up the walkway as Snow White opens the door. "Dinner was served an hour ago," her voice is serious. Suddenly I don't want to be there. I'm tired of getting yelled at by her family. "But we're eating ice cream and playing cards if you kids want to join us."

Smiles break on all three of our faces.

Snow White kisses her daughter on the check as we walk through the doorway.

* * *

A/N: It's about time for some Charming Family bonding, don't you think? All those who are looking forward to it, say "I!" and I promise it won't disappoint! Much thanks to everyone who is keeping up with my story. Your support means so much, and your reviews keep me writing!


	22. I'm Just Giving In

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 22: I'm Just Giving In_

"Pinocchio!" I hear Henry's voice before I have time to take in Snow White's redecorated house. Henry runs up to me with excitement. "Hi. I'm glad you could join us."

I guess he has forgiven me for the events of four days ago.

I eye him with a smile. "Hi, Henry. It's nice to see you."

Henry watches me as I hang my jacket on Snow White's wall hooks, completely forgetting to greet his mother. He follows my eyes to Emma, and instantly knows their intent.

"Hi Mom!" He waves to Emma, but then turns back to me. "Do you want some ice cream?"

"You know," I bend down to him. "I would love some ice cream, Henry."

"Great." Henry bolts to the kitchen.

I look back at Emma, totally amused. She, however, looks annoyed through her smile.

"Hey, Kid," Emma's voice carries across the room. "Where are your manners? Aren't you going to ask me if I want some?"

Henry opens the freezer without looking back at us. "I already know what you want." He takes three containers out placing them on the counter. "Strawberry ice cream with chocolate chips."

Emma smiles and shakes her head back and forth.

I move a little closer to her and whisper in ear, "Why is he so chipper?"

Emma reinforces our closeness when she turns her head back at me. "He's happy you can hang out with our family. He didn't like when we were hiding our relationship." Emma shrugs and then winks. "He likes you, you know."

Her comment makes me stand straighter. "Good."

We share a private smile and then I break our moment to see Prince James lifting Henry up so he can reach the bowls in the cupboard. I smile at the image's cuteness. I remember my Father lifting me up like that once or twice.

When Prince James puts his grandson down, he turns to greet us. "Hi sweetie," he smiles warmly at Emma and then looks at me. Some of his warmth leaves his face, but his greeting to me is still genuinely friendly. I smile back at him. "Hi Pinocchio." Prince James takes my hand when I offer it. "I'm glad you could join us."

"Thank you," I say as I release his hand. "I'm sorry we didn't make it to dinner."

"We figured that might happen," Prince James looks at me sincerely when he speaks. "I don't blame you for wanting to have dinner alone with my daughter after the last couple days."

"Actually," Emma steps into the conversation, literally and physically, invading my personal space while I'm trying to make a good impression. "We didn't have dinner," Emma explains and I wish she wouldn't.

All I manage to do is throw her an annoyed look before Snow White cuts in.

"You didn't have dinner?" Her motherly voice quickly addresses us. "You must be starving," she walks over to the kitchen. "I can warm some leftovers."

"No, really," Emma walks over to her. "We're fine. Ice cream sounds great."

"Emma," Snow White says disapprovingly. "You can't just have ice cream tonight. You need to eat something."

"Okay." Emma goes into daughter-compromising mode. "About dinner after dessert. Let's ease up on the rules since we have company."

"We had Cinderella and Thomas over last week," Henry interjects. "And we didn't ease up then."

"Please," Emma smiles at her mother as she begs her.

"In fact," Henry continues over his mother's pleading. "I think that's one of the most formal dinners we've had here."

Emma and Snow White are having a staring contest.

Prince James smiles at his wife and daughter's interaction.

"Fine!" Snow White concedes as though she is angry, but soon smiles. "Only because you're my daughter."

"Works for me," Emma says happily at her victory.

Prince James laughs at Emma as she helps Henry bring the bowls to the table.

I follow, and only sit after Prince James, Snow White, and Emma.

Henry has put all three flavors in my bowl: Strawberry, chocolate, and vanilla.

I smile at his assumption. That's exactly what I would have asked for at his age. Now, one scoop of chocolate would have been just fine.

"So," Emma starts after she's swallowed a spoonful of strawberry. "What game are we playing?"

Henry looks at the card deck on the table and mischievously answers, "I was teaching them how to play BS."

My eyes and Emma's only met for a second before we both burst out laughing.

"What?" Snow White asks, innocently.

Emma drops her spoon in her bowl and covers her mouth, trying to control herself.

"What's so funny?" Prince James' eyes dart between the two of us.

I can't look at him. My laughter has just quieted to a smile and I want to keep it that way.

When Emma has calmed down enough, she looks at me and announces, "I'm not playing BS with you."

I manage to look at Emma, turning the rest of my laughter into friendly competitiveness. "Well, I'm not playing BS with you."

"Oh, you scared, Pinocchio? Afraid I can beat you at your own game?"

"Not at all. I just wouldn't want to disprove your superpower in front of your son."

Emma pushes her bowl aside and reaches for the cards. "Oh, I'm not worried about that." Emma shrugs cutely. "Perhaps, when you lose, you'll finally believe me when I say you are the worst liar ever."

I put on an offensive face. "You can't beat Pinocchio at BS."

Snow White and Prince James are still confused.

Prince James asks, "What's so funny?" again as Emma starts dealing out cards.

I turn to him and when Emma doesn't answer, I do. "How far did Henry get in teaching you the game?"

"Not very," Snow White answers for her husband. "Henry told us you deal out the deck completely and then everyone puts cards face down in order from the two to the Ace."

I smile. "Yeah, and did Henry tell you what happens when it's your turn and you don't have the next card in the sequence?"

"Oh," Snow White exclaims, as if she's never thought of Henry's gap in explanation. "No." She looks at me with interest. "What happens?"

I open my mouth, but Henry answers, "You lie."

"What?" Snow White asks, looking between Henry, Emma, and me.

"You lie," I repeat Henry's words.

"I don't understand," Prince James starts.

Emma looks at me, a mixture of annoyance and laughter is on her face. "It's a game of lying," she turns to her Father, ready to explain the rules seriously. "The goal is to get rid of your cards. You have to put down at least one card when it's your turn. If you don't have the expected card, you have to put down another and say it's the right card. When you have more than one of the expected number you can, or should put all the cards of that number down. When you suspect someone is lying, you say 'BS' and they have to turn over their card. If they are lying, they pick up the deck on the table, if they aren't, you have to."

"BS?" Prince James asks for clarification.

I smile at him. "Stands for a phrase we can't say in front of Henry."

Prince James' eyes widen in understanding.

"I know what it means!" Henry defends himself.

We all smile at him and pick up our hands.

I look at the cards Emma dealt me, mostly happy with them, and start organizing them in order.

"I hope everyone is ready to get beaten," Emma announces to the table. She smiles, making eye contact with me. "I used to play this game all the time in elementary and middle school. Soon, I was so good that nobody wanted to play with me because I beat them all the time, so I brought it home to whichever Foster Family I was living with at the time." I notice Prince James and Snow While become more alert when Emma mentions her foster families, but she doesn't notice. Emma keeps telling her story to my eyes. "And I would beat the other kids so they would let me play with the toys or let me sleep in a bed or whatever." Emma's face lights up as she's telling the story. "It was great!"

I watch her parents trying to digest their daughter's story. Pain is in their eyes as they take in her words.

I try to smooth over the moment by saying, "Suddenly, I know the origin of your superpower."

Emma raises her eyebrows at me with a smile.

"Let you play…." Snow White repeats her daughter's words with heartache.

"…Sleep in the bed…" Her father continues his wife's thought process. "As opposed to where?"

"I don't know," Emma says lightly. Now I realize she holds her eyes to mine to ground herself – why she doesn't realize how shaken her parents are. "Opposed to sharing a bed or sleeping on the floor, I guess." Emma breaks from my gaze to check her cards. "Now who has the two of spades? Because I don't."

The table is tense. Henry catches on to the situation, a worried look on his face as he switches from looking at one family member to the next.

I help her the only way I can: by putting a card on the table and saying, "One Two."

Quickly, Henry catches me, yelling out, "BS!"

"Oh, Henry," Emma leans over to her son, and says in a very mothery-tone. "You don't yell BS on the first card."

Henry furrows his eyebrows at her, giving a look telling her she's crazy. "Of course you can," he flips my ten of hearts over, smiles, and says. "I have all the twos."

I take my card from him, giving him a wink. He smiles and some of the stress leaves his body.

He shouldn't be in the middle of Emma and her parents.

"Grandma," Henry turns to Snow White. "You're threes." When she doesn't respond, Henry moves closer to her, almost looking at her cards. "Do you have any threes?" Snow White's gaze is far off, her eyes become glossy as tears form behind them. "Grandma?"

I put my cards down, preparing for her parents' fallout.

Snow White turns towards her daughter. "You…They made you sleep on the floor?"

Emma takes a deep breath, regretting her words. Now I understand why it's so difficult for her to share anything with her parents. "I don't see what the big deal is," Emma says casually. "Didn't you live out in the forest with nothing hiding from Regina?"

"That's different." Prince James states firmly.

"Why?" Emma voice rises.

"Because I wasn't a kid!" Snow White exclaims, a single tear escaping her eye.

"You looked like one in the movie," Emma's words slip off her tongue.

"Emma!" Prince James' warning is in his voice and his eyes. From the look on his face, I gather Emma has had this response many times.

"Whatever," Emma responds to her Father. "Can we please, just, play the game? Please. I like this game. Can we just play and not talk for once?" The room is silent for a moment and Emma takes the silence as everyone conceding to her wishes. She looks at her mother, who is still upset, but seems to have calmed down a little. "You are threes." Emma voice is firm, almost cold.

Every bone in Snow White's body is telling her not to go along with the game, but she still places a card on the table. "One Three."

Prince James, hesitantly, puts two cards on the table. "Two Fours."

Emma's next, "One five," she says.

"BS!" I call out. Emma rolls her eyes at me. "Am I wrong?"

"You were going to call that out on me even if you didn't think I was lying." Emma argues.

"Why would I do that?" I turn her jack over. "Take the deck, Princess." Emma is annoyed as she gathers the deck. "Come on, it's only four cards."

"Yeah," Emma puts the cards in her hand with a fake frown. "Four cards you could've easily risked picking up this early in the game."

"What did I tell you?" I tease her. "Pinocchio always wins BS."

But Emma ignores me, instead looking at her son, "Go Henry."

"Three sixes," he announces as he puts three cards on the table.

It's my turn, I smile when I see a seven of clubs in my hand. My straight face returns as I say, "One seven," and place the card on top of Henry's.

Before Emma has a chance to respond, her iphone lights up and starts ringing.

We all freeze as the caller ID reads "M.o.M" and a picture appears of a woman holding a blonde little girl with two pigtail braids, who on second look is obviously Emma. Her ring tone plays to John Mayer's "Daughters."

"_Fathers, be good to your daughters_

_Daughters will love like you do"_

Emma is also frozen as she looks at the picture of screen, letting the music continue playing.

"_Girls become lovers who turn into mothers_

_So mothers, be good to your daughters too"_

"Emma?" Her Father's voice breaks as he asks what's going on.

Emma jumps at his voice, grabbing the phone to answer it.

Everyone stares at her as she stands from the table, putting her phone to her ear, and walks to the front door.

"Hello?" We hear Emma say into the phone. There is silence and then, "It's funny you called, I was just thinking about you the other day."

That's all we hear though, because Emma quickly opens the front door and closes it behind her.

I still watch the door, trying to figure out what just happened, when I feel six eyes upon me.

I turn to face them. My eyebrows rise, "I don't know anything."

"I thought she said she didn't get along with any of her foster parents," Snow White declares, her voice filled with hurt and shock.

"Well," Prince James starts, obviously shocked as well. "Maybe it's actually a good thing she does."

"The ones who didn't let her play with toys, making her sleep on the floor?" Snow White turns to the window where she can see Emma still talking on the phone. "How can that be a good thing?"

She looks back at her husband for a moment, fear coming into her face.

"We still don't know anything," I try to calm her parents. "Did you notice the spelling of the name? She might not even a foster parent, the letters might stand for something else."

All three of them look at me again, now with rattled faces, as if my explanation could actually be worse than what they were imagining.

* * *

A/N: M.o.M? ;D Part II gives me so many avenues to explore!


	23. Slipping Underneath

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 23: Slipping Underneath_

Emma's parents turn from me when I don't share any more theories, to watch their daughter, still on the phone through the window.

"Maybe," Henry starts his own theory. "She's from Emma's first family, the one that kept her until she was three." He pauses when he realizes his information is new to his grandparents. "She didn't seem to totally hate them when she told me about them."

Prince James focuses on Henry and asks curiously. "When did she tell you about them, Henry?"

"Her second day in Storybrooke, I think." Henry replies and then his eyes follow his Grandmother's to his mother.

"What else did she say about them?" Prince James asks further.

His questioning makes me uncomfortable. Not only I am sure Emma wouldn't be okay with it, I also know it is partly false, coming second hand.

"Well, she said," he stops himself. His eyes met mine and I try to warn him from expanding his story. "Actually, I forgot. I don't know."

His grandparents know he's lying, but Henry remains silent.

Prince James is about to address Henry's silence, but I rudely speak over him. "Exactly, Henry," I sit up straighter. "We don't know anything. I'm sure we're making it worse by guessing."

When Snow White turns back to Emma again in worry, Prince James stops her. "Snow," she turns to face her husband. "She's fine. She'll come in when she's ready."

"Did you see that picture?" Her question is rhetorical. Everyone saw the picture of a young Emma held by a woman in her late twenties. "Emma said she showed us all the pictures of her childhood. I've never seen that one."

"Snow," Prince James' voice is a mixture of empathy and caution.

"She lied to us, Charming!" Snow White isn't angry, but her pain is close to converting.

Prince James doesn't have a quick response. The room is silent long enough so when my cell phone beeps, it reminds everyone of my presence.

I reach for it my pocket. As I'm pulling it out, Prince James explains, "Emma didn't show us any pictures, Snow. We found them when we invaded her privacy by looking in her box. Why would she show us any more after that?"

Snow White doesn't have a response, but it's clear by the look on her face Emma's concealment was not her point.

I look down at my phone.

FROM: Emma

Pls come outside. I need you.

I look up at the table. Emma's whole family is staring at me.

Great.

I can't think of anything else to do, other than to take a sip of water and say, "Excuse me," before I stand.

Their eyes are on my back as I make my way out the door.

Darkness has covered Storybrooke during our game of BS. Expecting to find Emma outside the window, I walk in its direction and stop right in front of the inside curtains.

But she isn't there.

"Emma?" I whisper to the darkness.

"Over here." While I can't see her, I know she's upset. Her voice is shaking. I look around the yard.

Emma is lying on her back in the grass.

When I reach her, I match her position silently. As soon as I do, though, she sits up.

"Parents suck," she announces. I soften my eyes with empathy, and she continues. "I mean they really, really suck. How I am supposed to be honest with them, share my life with them, if they freak out over something so trivial as sleeping on the floor."

"Emma," I warn her.

"Did it ever occur to them, that I might like sleeping on the floor? I liked it better than sharing a bed. At least on the floor, I didn't have to wake up and rip the covers from the other person every two hours."

"I think they-" I start defending her parents.

But Emma just talks right over me. "Here's what is going to happen if I go inside. I am going to be bombarded with questions." Her voice changes to a high pitch of mockery. "'Who was on the phone? Who was the woman in the photo with you? Why did you hide the photo?" She pauses, her voice cracking. "Why are you upset? What did they say? Why are you crying, Emma?"

My eyes look directly into hers then, and through the darkness the tears that have spilled over. It makes me upset just to look at her.

I bring my finger to her check to wipe away her tears, but she shoves it away.

"What if I don't want to go to Fairytale Land?" She continues ranting. "Maybe that's why we're not," She raises her fingers in air quotes. "'Home' yet. Maybe I'm not trying hard enough because I actually want to stay here. I've grown up here, lived here my entire life. But does yet occur to anyone? No. All these fairytale characters just assume I want to go home with them because I am the 'savior.' They don't give a damn to what I think or feel."

There are so many responses I have to her words; some are angry, others are offended, and then some of understanding ones come too.

Even if I spoke up, I doubt Emma would hear me at this point, she is too busy letting go of her pent-up emotions.

"Everyone wants something from me, and if they don't want something then I'm a piece of shit, a waste of time…" Emma searches my eyes, "Either that or I'm the most valuable person ever, right? The happiness of every fairytale character, depends on me. Lucky me!" She says sarcastically. "Be careful what you wish for right? I wanted to be important to somebody and now I'm important to the whole Disney lot."

I lie back down in the grass. "Hey, that's a role most elementary school girls would kill for."

An annoyed expression greets me when I look at Emma. It's there only for a second, though, because the front door loudly opens, causing Emma to turn.

"Mom?" Henry questions the darkness.

At least her parents know their daughter well enough to send her son for answers and not one of them.

Emma stands and asks in a tired voice. "What do you need, Henry?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Kid. I'm fine." Emma pauses. "I just need to be alone for a little while, okay?"

Henry's worries are obvious in his silence. After a moment or two, he asks, "Is Pinocchio with you?"

Emma looks down at me, asking permission to reveal my presence. My expression is blank. It's her decision. She hesitates, "Yeah, he's with me."

I can't see Henry's expression from my position in the grass. Soon, I hear a door shut.

Emma gently falls next to me after the door shuts. She turns her head so we can stare at each other. She surprises me by placing her palm on my check.

"Promise me something," She whispers. Emma is no longer crying. Her whispers are heart-warming.

"Anything," I rest my palm softy over hers.

"Never smoke ever again," she requests.

My eyebrows furrow down in confusion.

What does smoking have to do with anything?

"What makes you think I ever smoked?"

Emma doesn't answer me. Suddenly images of that stupid movie come to mind. Images of a black-haired puppet, instead of a red-haired one, pop into my mind.

The black-haired, animated puppet smoked. I never did.

I move my hand to her hair, letting my fingers stroke out the strands. "I promise," I whisper.

"Okay," Emma closes her eyes as a tear escapes and runs down her face.

I don't know what to do, or what to say. All I know is not to ask the questions she predicted her parents would.

I prop myself up on my elbow and lean over to kiss her forehead. "I love you, Emma," I whisper.

Her eyes open at my words. She searches my face, her eyes never staying still. I smile sadly at her, and then she moves closer to give me a quick kiss.

The magical feeling is gone as soon as it ignited. I open my eyes to see Emma is already inches away from me, her elbow supporting her as she leans back in the grass.

Emma looks up at stars and announces, "My favorite foster Father died of lung cancer today."

Oh, Emma.

My lips turn down into a frown as bring my hand across her face to wipe away her tears.

This time she lets me.

I whisper the traditional condolence, "I'm so sorry," but that feels out of place.

"Don't." She speaks on top of my words. "I'm not saying he was a good guy, I'm saying out of all the assholes, he was the least problematic." I don't say anything for fear of being in the wrong. "I was out here, looking at the stars, trying to figure out why I'm so upset, and," her voice changes, adding a little bit of anger. "I can't even figure it out. I have no idea why."

I start stroking her check. "That's okay, Emma," I whisper. "It's okay." We're silent for a while, hearing the crickets chirp through the night. I think of Jiminy.

Soon, Emma closes her eyes and leans her head closer to mine. "He made sixth grade tolerable," she whispers with her eyes still closed. "His wife was a crazy bitch."

For some reason, I assumed the wife was the woman calling. I try to hold my questions, but my curiosity takes over me. I am mad at myself as I open my mouth, "You looked very cute in that photo," I say casually.

Emma rolls her eyes, seeing right through my comment. "Don't do that," she says softly.

A smile breaks on my face. "Do what?" I ask innocently.

"Hint at your question. If you want to ask something, just ask."

"Well, you implied you didn't want your parents to ask, so-"

"Well, you're not my parents," Emma whispers warmly, welcoming me into her secret world.

Once again, Emma's words, her insinuations, take my breath away. I am caught staring at her, studying her like a masterpiece painting.

Still, I break the serious moment with humor. "The suspense is killing me then," I smile. "Who was women holding you with such love and care as to make your own mother jealous?"

Emma smiles and then turns serious. "My social worker." Emma states. When she sees the surprise on my face, she explains. "Matron of Mothers, as I like to call her." She pauses, gathering her thoughts, and then continues. "Some foster kids have several social workers throughout the years. I was lucky. I only had one my entire life. We still keep in touch from time to time, having lunch once a year or so if we can. I thought her call was to ask me to lunch."

"It wasn't." I whisper.

Emma repeats, "It wasn't," at her normal volume. She turns from me to lie on her back, her eyes wondrously searching the night sky. "Damnit!" She sits up in frustration and turns in the direction of the house. "They're going to come out here in a minute."

"They're just worried about you," I defend them, and then realize Emma doesn't like when I do that. She rolls her eyes again and I sit up, placing my hand reassuringly on her shoulder. "Are you up to going in? I'm sure they would let you go straight to bed."

"You're sure, huh?" Emma asks, unconvinced.

"Hey, your protector is here," I move closer to her. "No one's going to pester you without your consent." Emma raises her eyebrows. "Or mine," I add.

A smile teases appearing on Emma's face, but quickly disappears. "Kiss me," Emma asks breathlessly.

I'm not sure why she's asking, but I don't care. I kiss her softly. Sweetly. Then pull back.

My eyes sharpen when Emma releases me to stand up. They focus on someone standing across the yard, watching us, who I didn't see when I came out. They don't move as Emma walks back to the door.

I debate telling Emma, warning her, but decide she has enough to deal with tonight.

As soon as Emma opens the door, her mother is there, talking with concern in her voice. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Just as Emma predicted, the questions come at her before she has a chance to answer.

"Sorry," Snow White says, regretfully. She lets go of Emma, and backs away, giving her space to breathe.

"I'm okay," Emma addresses her family quietly. "I'm just going to go to sleep, if that's okay."

Her request is only met with sad silence, concern filling her family's faces.

"Okay," her statement is a form of gratitude. She walks over to her Father and puts her arms around him. He hugs her back in surprise. I wonder if it's the first time she's embraced him. "Goodnight," she tells him before briefly kissing his check and running upstairs.

And, once again, her family is looking to me for answers.

"She's fine." I state, trying to stay neutral. "She's just a little shaken."

"But-" Snow starts.

"Really, she'll be okay," I promise. "You know Emma, she's a fighter. Let her sleep and everything will be fine in the morning."

I can tell they want more, but don't ask as I take my coat from its hook. "Thanks for dessert."

Her Family smiles in return and I wave goodbye before opening the door.

They are still watching the house.

I quickly, but cautiously, walk towards them in the darkness.

I stop, stunned, when I see her face.

"Granny?" I ask. "What are you doing here so late?"

Granny looks at me with equal shock. "I could ask you the same question, Mr. Booth." Her voice is serious. Then, a sly smile comes to her face. "Nice night for serenading the ladies, is it not?"

Her omniscient face is made worse when I notice the twinkle in her eye.

* * *

A/N: Secret lovers no more! I wonder how fast the news will spread...:D


	24. So Cold and So Sweet

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 24: So Cold and So Sweet_

Granny holds my gaze, somehow not letting my blink, until I answer her questions.

The way I see it, however, my answer is in my silence. Any words out of my mouth could make trouble.

I decide to act in an offensive way instead of a defensive one. "Do you usually spy on the Charmings at night? Because, I have to say, Granny, it's kind of creepy."

Granny crosses her arms and sneers at me. "That tells me how much you know about the town."

Her comment is more derogatory to me than it should be. "Excuse me?"

She sighs. "You know, just because the Charmings let you into their home doesn't mean I should trust you." Granny pauses, searching me up and down. Then adds, "However much you possess the charming quality yourself."

An uncomfortable smile comes to my face as I look away from her. Once I do, I notice a weapon leading against the white picket fence behind us.

A light goes off in my head. My lips part in awe. "Are you guarding the Charming's house?"

Her eyes flashback as daggers, "Somebody has to."

She's right, somebody should watch over them at all times. I wonder why the concern didn't cross my mind earlier. "Do you do this every night?"

Granny's hesitation to trust me is obvious in her silence. She shifts anxiously on her feet before answering, "No, we have a team of people who take turns."

My eye's widen and I exclaim, "The round table council!" before I can help myself.

Granny whirls her head and examines my face.

Damnit!

Once again, I speak before thinking, making myself a thousand times more vulnerable then before.

The catch is the only way to know about the round table council is if you are part of it. Memories flash before my eyes of playing with my wooden whale as Father discussed how to save baby Emma from the curse with members of the Royal Court.

Granny steps closer to me still trying to figure me out. She whispers, "Who are you?" into the darkness.

I step towards her seriously. Our noses are almost touching. I debate what I should tell her. Lying is a good option. I like remaining the mysterious stranger in Storybrooke. In fact, some of my freedom depends on it. I quickly run down my choices and then look her straight in the eye. "You know who I am."

Well, it's not exactly the truth, but it's not exactly lying either.

Granny jumps back a little at my words. A wide, mischievous grin appears on my face.

Instead of returning my playfulness, Granny is suddenly more suspicious of me ever. Still, through her suspicions, I notice more trust in the depths of her eyes, as if her better instincts were saying to trust me and her brain now doubted them.

My boyish grin is still on my face as I walk away. "Hey," I slightly turn back to her. "Do me a favor." I wait for a reply, but I am not surprised when I don't receive one. "Whatever you saw, whatever you heard, I'm pretty sure the savior wouldn't want it spreading through the town. Would she?"

I stay frozen in mid-step waiting for Granny's assurance.

After a minute, though, it's clear I won't hear it. I'm delighted I found the boy in me for a few seconds. My disappointment at its disappearance comes along with the replacement of seriousness on my face.

"Goodnight, Granny." I say and begin to walk away again. "Stay safe. Protecting the savior is a serious business."

I arrive home to a dark house. I look in Father's room before my own. Sure enough, he is already asleep. I smile as I see the nightcap on his head and the candle on his nightstand. The image is the same as when I watched him sleep from the shelf as a puppet.

Softly, I move his hair off his forehead so I can kiss it. "I love you, Father," I whisper.

Suddenly, Father stirs. The regretful feeling I've been so acquainted with recently returns. "Pinocchio?" He whispers.

"Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to say goodnight."

Father sits up a little further.

I wish he wouldn't.

"No. I'm glad you did." He feels around for the light switch, turns it on to find the matches, lights his candle, and then turns off the electric light source. "I actually meant to wait up for you."

I like the candle so much better. It reminds me of home, of my father at home. A warm feeling fills my body at the memory.

"I'm surprised I fell asleep before you came home," he continues to whisper. "After all the worrying I did when you were gone."

My stomach tightens, even more regret filling it. "It wore you out," I notice sadly, a frown turning my lips. "I'm glad you were resting."

Father matches my sad smile, placing his palm on my check. "My dear Pinocchio, I'm so much less without you."

His comment, I'm sure, is truer for me than it is for him. My life quickly passes before me, my immature, selfish actions over the last 28 years replaying in my head. Without Father, I'm sure I would still be that guy.

"I am nothing without you Father," I say stronger, making sure he understands me.

He smiles warmly at my words. Silence passes over us and I move in for an embrace. His arms are as perfect as ever as he holds me to him.

Father pulls back to look at me, a sly smile appears on his face.

What did I do now?

I look at him cautiously. "What?" I whisper.

"So, you worked things out with Emma?"

A small laugh escapes my lips. "Yeah, yeah I did."

"Good." Father leans against his headboard. "Did you leave Storybrooke to celebrate?"

I know he doesn't particular like when I leave town and it sometimes adds to his worries, but I'm glad he doesn't take it as bad as Emma's parents do.

"No, actually." I sit up straighter. "Her family invited me over for dinner and family game night."

"What?" Father bolts up from his relaxed position. "They did? Are you sure that was a good idea? Did everything work out okay?"

I put my hands on his arms to calm him. "Father, it was fine," I say softly. "Fun, actually, for the most part. They welcomed me into their home, it was great."

Shock is still evident on his face as he asks, "They welcomed you?"

I smile and my hands release his arms.

Father leans back on the headboard again and I'm grateful. " Good." Then a curious, excited expression fills Father's face. "You know, if everything really is okay with you and Emma's family, I think we should have them over for dinner to return the favor."

My eyes widen at his idea. "I don't know Father, that might be pushing it."

Disappointment comes over him for a brief second and it passes. "Emma, then."

"We'll see, okay?"

"No, think about it. Please?"

"Okay," I yawn, making Father smile. "I better go to bed." Father watches me stand. He leans over to blow out the candle, but my words stop him. "What time Jiminy is coming over for breakfast?"

Father turns to me, something very guarded on his face. "He isn't coming over for breakfast, Pinocchio."

My eyes furrow. "Why not?" I ask. Jiminy is always over for breakfast. In fact, he usually shares all three meals with us.

Father blows out his candle without answering and I hear him adjust his covers in the darkness. He says at his normal volume, "Goodnight, my son," to end our conversation.

I am even more confused as I close his door behind me. Soon, though, my own room's darkness succumbs me to my own sleep. I have just enough time to strip my clothes and pull my covers over me before my eyes shut.

The morning doesn't come soon enough. Emma is my first thought when I wake, and I pop up as empathy comes over me. I'm sure she didn't have the smooth, quick night that I did. I pull on new jeans and a light blue shirt, leaving my leather jacket in the same place where I dropped it on my floor last night.

I sprint downstairs, taking the steps two at a time. I reach the front door and pull it open before I'm caught.

"Good morning," Father rounds the corner from the kitchen. "Where are you off to in such a hurry, son?"

"Emma needs me this morning," I answer, trying to hide my annoyance.

"I'm sure she does," Father's voice is somber. "But you need breakfast."

"Well, since Jiminy isn't joining us, I thought I'd skip it."

Father freezes at my words, his hurt so deep that it fills the room preventing me from walking out the door.

I try to put on a face of remorse and compassion. Softly, I say, "You're the one who said Jiminy was family."

"That doesn't mean you can disregard me."

"I'm not." I state strongly. "Emma needs me."

Without giving him a chance to reply, I'm out the door, running to my next destination.

I reach Maurice's Flower Shop within minutes. A bell rings as I open the shop's door, causing Maurice to look up from his desk.

He eyes me suspiciously, just like Granny did. "Can I help you?"

I smile, pretending I can't see the way he's looking at me. "Yes. Hi. I would like five white roses, please."

Maurice nods and turns his back on me to create my order. As he works the bell rings again and we both turn to greet the new customer.

It's not a customer.

"My dearest daughter!" Maurice leans out to Belle across the counter. They greet each other by kissing the other on their check.

"Good morning, Poppa." Belle says sweetly as they pull away from each other. Belle smiles at me as she walks to a chair in the corner and pulls out her book.

I smile back before Belle returns to her book. Then I realize it's the first time since the curse broke that someone who didn't know who I was looked at me with nothing but friendliness.

"Here you go," Maurice says, handing me the flowers.

"Thank you," I say sincerely. I pay for the flowers and wave to Belle, who waves back, before exiting the shop.

The Sheriff's car is parked in its spot when I reach the station. I smile, and run up the stairs to Emma. I slow down when I reach the Sheriff's office. I pause, flowers in hand, when I see her.

Emma is crouched over her desk, her hair covering her face. Just that sight of her makes me sad. Then I realize she's dressed completely in black and my heart drops further.

Quietly opening the glass door to her office, I walk in and put the flowers on her desk.

She doesn't stir at my actions.

I bend down to kiss her hair and then sit on her desk.

Emma jerks up. The stress leaves her face when she recognizes me. A tired smile greets me, "Hey."

"Hey," I repeat, my hand going to her face to brush away some hair.

Emma looks around and sits up straighter. Her eyes stop at the flowers. "Are these from you?"

I can't read her expression as her eyes dart from the flowers to me. I smile in reply.

For a moment, she stops darting her eyes and picks a spot in the distance to stare at. Then turns to me. "I'm not in mourning, August."

I notice the use of my other name and wonder if she's using it because we're in a public or because she's annoyed at me.

"Your wardrobe choice says otherwise," I say softy, but know there's an edge to my words.

Irritation, almost anger, is in Emma's eyes as they piece mine. I look down at her black shirt and jeans and back up at her.

Emma mimics my actions, just now realizing the color of her clothing. The bags under her eyes tell me she didn't sleep much last night, if at all. She must have chosen her clothes this morning without thinking about it.

"Damnit," she lets out, slouching back in her chair again.

Gently, I say, "It's okay, Emma."

"No." Her voice is jarring. It surprises me. "It's not."

"Why not?" I try to stay calm, reminding myself she might be irrational right now. "You're allowed to fall apart Emma. You're allowed to be sad for a little while."

Her voice rises, "I was sad last night. That's all I get. I can't be sad anymore."

My voice remains soft. I place my hand over hers. "I don't think it works that way, Emma."

"Yes. It does." She meets my eyes. "It has to."

I want to raise my voice at her ridiculousness, but I don't. "Why?"

"I have to be there for Henry. Besides, if I go around telling everyone I had no family, which I didn't, I can't now be upset because someone I was attached to is gone."

"It doesn't matter what you tell people, Emma."

Emma raises her eyebrows at me. "So says, Pinocchio."

Wow, she knows how to use her words as daggers when she wants to.

Angry, I stand up from her desk. "Emma!" My voice starts to rise finally. "You're favorite foster father died! Trying to deny you're still upset is only going to hurt you in the long run!"

Emma stands, her anger creating new energy. "I-"

"He died?" A new whisper in the room turns our heads.

Prince James is standing in the doorway, starring at his daughter, with coffees in his hand.

Great.

Emma and I both lose our anger in an instant. Emma turns away from her father and me in attempt to regain her composure.

Prince James' face is full of compassion and worry as he stares at his daughter's back. His gaze shifts from her to me, still looking for answers. He silently asks me the question and I reluctantly confirm it in a nod.

"I should go," I whisper to Emma.

Emma turns to face both of us. I'm not surprised when she has managed to put on a happy face. One looking at her would have no idea she was just upset.

"Thanks for the flowers." Her voice isn't angry, it's sad.

I leave the station without another look at either of them.

Replaying the scene that just passed between us over and over, I don't think as I walk into Granny's for my morning coffee.

I walk to the counter, ask for, "One coffee, please," and don't realize what I'm doing until I look up at Red.

Her eyes remind me of the wolf inside of her. "We're out."

"Excuse me?"

"No coffee for you." She shrugs. "Those are strings, Pinocchio."

I freeze as her angry eyes scan my body.

And then I feel the eyes of all Granny's customers on my back.

* * *

A/N: Huh, I guess he's the mysterious stranger no more. He escaped everyone's attention for too long anyway.


	25. In The Arms of the Ocean

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 25: In The Arms Of The Ocean, So Sweet and So Cold_

Time stops when I am caught speechless between Red and her angry costumers. I quickly try to come up with a satisfying reply, but when I can't, I consider running.

But that's not what a brave man would do.

Science, or rather, magic dictates whenever time freezes, it must speed up to catch up with the rest of the world. So, before I know it, all of Granny's consumers have gathered around me, calling for justice.

Red is still behind the counter. Her voice is the loudest. "You're not the only one who wanted to see lemurs, you know."

"Where's your long nose?" Grumpy yells behind me. "You've been lying to all us telling us your name was August W. Booth."

"August W. Booth?" Doc walks closer to me in the mob trapping me in. "A. Wooden. Boy. You think you're so clever, tricking us with your code names."

"The way I see it," Sleepy speaks out. "You should still be one, considering you took Snow's place in the wardrobe."

"That wardrobe wasn't meant for you!" Sneezy points out through. "A puppet shouldn't escape from the curse leaving Snow White and the rest of us trapped!"

"All of us have been here for 28 years," Mulan's voice booms across the diner. "While you've been traveling the world on your little adventures instead of protecting our savior."

"Why would anyone," Aladdin steps forward. "Choose Pinocchio to protect our savior? You're careless-"

"Irresponsible-" Cinderella adds.

"Selfish-" Tiana calls out.

Red leads the mob, walking out from behind the counter. "A weak, selfish, puppet who took Snow away from her daughter."

A large man comes out of the kitchen. He parts the crowd as he charges me. Our eyes meet. My fear from angry fairytale characters is nothing compared to now. I have been avoiding the man for a reason. Stromboli pins me against the wall before I can do anything. "So the little puppet escaped the dark curse." I try to push his arms away, but it's no use. He looks me straight in the eye as his face comes closer to mine. Spit flies into my face as he talks. "I've been looking for you" His voice is sinister. The crowd outside Granny's grows larger and larger with angry citizens from home. "He has a way of escaping trouble. Cages. Islands. Angry Men." I step on feet; Stromboli winces but keeps his hold on me. "Not this time, though. You're still a puppet to me. A feeble, breakable, doll that is easily smashed."

I look past him to the growing crowd. Surely, this is a misunderstanding. If they knew I was the one who carried baby Emma to safety, who saved her life once again by the kiss of true love, they wouldn't be trying to kill me. Would they?

There is a clear separation in the crowd. Red and her princess friends, including their soul mates and the dwarfs, are on my left side inside the diner. They're still yelling but their anger is contained and regulated, unlike the group to my right.

Disney's stereotypical villains are growing in numbers and violence. I have only known one villain my entire life, and that's the one pining me to the wall. I struggle against him as I identify one sinister character after another. Ursula, Jafar, Hades, and Cruella de Vil all rage outside the diner's entrance.

It's almost like they don't know how or why the mob started at this point. What's worse is, they don't seem to care. Strombli's anger ignited the call to his conspirators.

I turn to the left to find King Triton in the crowd. How can he not understand a father's love? I'm sure, if given the chance, he would have done the same thing for Ariel as my Father did for me.

I don't mention it was Father's decision, I rather the townspeople pick a fight with me than with him.

Yeah, take that. Who's calling Pinocchio selfish now?

Strombli slams my head into the wall again. "Any final words, little marionette?"

I am still struggling against him as he waits for my response. No words come in to my head, except for the wish for him to…

"Stop!" Jiminy's voice is the loudest of them all as he fights his way towards me. We eye each other and relief pours into me. There have been many times in my life when I've been grateful to see Jiminy Cricket. Now is definitely one of them.

"Ah," Strombli rolls his eyes. "The cricket."

Jiminy reaches us while I continue to fight against Strombli. His large body still overpowers my lanky, but now adult one.

"Let him go!" Jiminy demands and starts pulling Strombli's limbs off of mine.

It's no use.

Jiminy quickly figures this out and starts talking. Like usual his words are more powerful than his actions. He turns to the crowd. "Your fight isn't with Pinocchio! It was Geppetto's decision to put Pinocchio through the wardrobe." My eyes shoot out anger when he mentions Father. Quickly, he defends Father's actions over the uproar. "The Blue Fairy promised him a place in the wardrobe for Pinocchio in exchanged for building it. Pinocchio is the one who saved the savior's life!"

Jiminy's attempt to rescue me only results in more clamor.

The mob outside yells out together, "Geppetto!"

Capitan Hook speaks over the horde outside, summoning a following for "The Carpenter!"

No!

Their anger towards Father was exactly what I was trying to avoid by letting them attack me.

When violence only increases, the protesters to my left start backing away. Cinderella, Mulan, Tiana, and Aladdin walk quietly towards Granny's back entrance. The dwarfs protect the rear when somebody throws a rock through the front window. Snow White's friends don't hurt me, but they don't protect me either.

Red is the only one who stays behind to protect her Granny's diner.

I struggle even harder against Strombli as the mob begin to follow Hook in the direction of Father's house.

My eyes dart to Jiminy's. We share the same worries.

"Go!" My mouth finally functions to give Jiminy demands.

Jiminy turns to the disappearing mob. He freezes for a moment, deciding what to do, and then looks back to me.

No.

I can see in his eyes he has made the wrong choice.

"Go!" I barely get out as Strombli digs his fingers into my throat. "Protect Father!"

"No!" Jiminy cries. "My job is to protect you. This is our fight!"

"And mine!" A female voice calls out.

All three of our heads turn to find the Blue Fairy standing in the doorway.

In all this chaos, I haven't been able to wish for her presence.

But now that I think about it, it's about time she arrived.

Oh, was that selfish thought? I think that's okay when you have a crazy Italian guy pounding you into the wall.

"You release our boy, Strombli," The Blue Fairy demands in a calm, regulated voice. "And we all walk away. No harm done."

"Why would I do that?" Strombli laughs. "Now that I have him, I plan on trapping in a cage forever. It's his fault I've been cooking in kitchens for a year longer than I had to."

"No one deserves to be in a cage forever more than you do, Strombli!" Jiminy yells in his face.

I eye Jiminy. Our thoughts match as we turn to the Blue Fairy, asking one small favor…

Disappointment in her eyes as she reads our thoughts. For a second I worry she is going to let him walk.

Then a cage appears in the middle of the diner. It is magically constructed to fit to Strombli's size.

The Blue Fairy looks back from the cage to me, strong disappointment still in her eyes. "Only for you, Pinocchio." With her wand, she forces Strombli off of me and throws him into the cage, shutting the wooden door and locking it.

I can breathe again.

"It can't be forever," She warns me. "That's not how I operate. I'm breaking my own rules as it is."

Jiminy's arms are around me before I breathe in my second breath.

All I can do is smile in gratitude at her before running out the door.

"Pinocchio!" Jiminy yells behind me. His breathless voice is strained running to catch up with me.

I can't stop. I can't wait for him. My legs will run at their current speed until they give out or I reach the house.

I stop behind a bush, taking in the scene.

It's worse than I imagined.

Bricks are thrown at windows. Flowers are upturned. The woodshop is in the midst of being destroyed.

The townspeople keep multiplying. From their behavior, it seems they have forgotten why they're angry and are destroying for the purpose of destruction.

Where's Father?

"Oh. My. Word." Jiminy's running slows when he sees me frozen in front of the house.

I turn from the destruction to my only friendly face. "Why are they doing this, Jiminy?"

"Regina is still conducting her evil from hiding." he whispers in my ear. "Now is the first time they've had someone weak, but still justifiable, to take their anger out on."

I turn to him angrily. "And who gave them that idea?"

"I did it to protect you!"

Jiminy calling my Father weak echoes in my head. I'm out of my hiding spot, pushing my legs to run faster than ever to the house.

"What the hell," Emma and I run into the yard at the same time. "Is going on here?"

It took this long for the police department to be notified?

I duck a flowerpot flying in my direction.

"Where the hell have you been?" I yell at her when she follows me up the broken steps to front door.

Thankfully, the door hasn't been pushed down yet. I stop at the door as I reach for my keys.

"I came looking for you," Emma explains through her stressed voice. "Strombli just magically appeared at the station in a cage."

I open the door just enough so Emma and I can slide through it. Our backs automatically lean against the door as someone tries to push it open.

"You didn't hear the mob at Granny's?"

"The town is bigger than you think," Emma replies. "I can't believe no one called it in."

We're still leaning again the door, holding it closed. "No one wanted to call it in. They wanted revenge."

Emma reaches for her walkie-talkie in her pocket. "Emergency at Geppetto's house. I need back up." Her voice goes quiet when she turns to me. "What the hell happened?"

"Pinocchio has been revealed." I tell her. "And his Father's wardrobe decision along with it."

She looks up at me, already tired. "This is so not what I need today!"

I finally have a chance to look at her properly. Of course, she is still in her black clothes from an hour ago.

"Emma," Prince James' voice is full of Fatherly concern through the speaker. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Emma speaks with urgency. "I need back up."

"I'm on my way." Prince James announces.

I feel another push on the door. My eyes shift from Emma to the crack between the door and the wall. If we could just close the distance between them, I would be able to lock the door.

I turn back to Emma and she's eyeing the gap as well.

We both change our positions on the door, pushing our hands against it.

"Wait. Together." I lead her. "On three."

"One. Two." Emma counts. Before the final number, we look at each other, rage in our eyes. "Three."

We manage to push the door all closed. I lock it before they have a chance to push back.

"At least the door has no windows," Emma comments when we walk further into the house.

I barely hear her though; my thoughts focus on one person only. "Father!" I yell through the house.

Where would he hide? Now I wish I made the house my own and knew its design by heart.

"Pinocchio!" Jiminy's voice booms through the house. Emma and I turn in its direction and she quickly finds the door down to the basement.

When she opens it, I can barely make out Jiminy's and Father's figures at the bottom of the stairs.

Emma backs away from the door to let me go in first. I begin to walk down and then realize she's not following me. "You go," she demands after I look up at her. "I have an angry mob to mange."

"Emma…"

"They can't hurt me. I'm their savior." There is a sad look in her eyes as she defends her decision. "Let me protect you for once."

Before I can protest, Emma is out of sight.

I fly down the rest of the basement stairs and halt at their final step.

Father is lying helpless in Jiminy's arms, blood dripping down his face.

* * *

A/N: With an evil queen in hiding, I guess they choose what they thought was the next best thing. You know what they say about anger building and building over time...


	26. All This Devotion I Never Knew At All

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 26: All This Devotion I Never Knew At All_

"Father?" My words announce my presence. Jiminy turns to me, without shifting his hold on Father. Our eyes meet for a brief second before Jiminy devotes his attention back to the man he's holding.

"He's going to be okay," Jiminy assures me.

Only after I hear Jiminy's assurances do I finish running to Father. It's clear Jiminy won't easily let go of his grip on him, so I just reach up to brush his hair off his forehead.

Father's eyes open slightly at my touch. They find mine and it's clear, to him, there's no one else in the world.

"Pinocchio," Father whispers feebly. "My boy…"

Tears form in my eyes. I bend down further to kiss his forehead. "I'm right here." When I open my eyes to look at him again, my tears spill over. "I'm right here, Father."

When he sees my tears, his own start to fall. Then, he breaks eye contact with me. Glossiness covers his eyes when he looks away. "I'm sorry." Father's grip loosens on Jiminy. "I'm sorry," he whispers again.

And then his eyes roll to the back of his head.

I realize my tears are still running down my cheeks when I look at Jiminy and his face mirrors mine.

"He's going to me okay," Jiminy repeats. "I promise. He has a concussion. He needs medical attention."

"What the hell happened?" I ask before I realize Jiminy probably found him in his current state.

"Someone threw brick through a window and he was in its crossfire."

Before I can help myself, my words slip out of me again. "Are you sure it wasn't aimed for him?"

Jiminy's eyebrows rise, but he doesn't answer my question. "Pinocchio." His tone turns urgent. "He needs a doctor." His head motion to the basement door. "Go. Now."

I freeze. Shouldn't I stay with my own Father while Jiminy finds help? I'm pretty sure the town will at least tolerate him right now, unlike me. Jiminy isn't even family, despite what Father claims.

"I'm staying." I announce. Disappointment falls over Jiminy. "He's my Father. I need to stay with him. The townspeople will at least respect what you have to say."

I reach for Father, but Jiminy doesn't make any attempt to move.

"We can't risk further damage. We can't risk moving him." Jiminy's voice lowers and his teary eyes reach out for mine. "Pinocchio, here's another chance to be brave. You can find help. You will save him."

The trouble is, most of time I'm given a chance to be brave, I fail.

I move closer to Father and he stirs. "You need to stay awake." He looks at me briefly before the glossy cover returns. "I'm going to find help, okay?"

Father tries to reach for me, but is still too weak. I softly place my hand over his before I stand. "I'll be back, I promise."

I run to the basement door and am out of it before I tempt fate by looking back at Father.

To reach the porch, I run uphill beside the house. I stop when I am at one of its corners turning onto the front yard.

Prince James has called the fairies for help.

Before I spot him or Emma, I am overwhelmed at the image before me. The Blue Fairy leads her team and gathers the angry villains together, pining them against the house. Their fairy dust bags are finally smaller than their bodies and every time a fairy pulls dust from her bag to throw at a villain, they freeze like soldiers.

When the Blue Fairy locks the last strangler, Captain Hook, against the house, Emma walks from Prince James and off the porch.

I smile when I notice her body has transformed. She stands straighter and walks stronger.

She turns to the wall full of fairytale villains. "What a sight." All of the fairies gather behind Emma. "What a sight. You know, I was torn between dreading this day and looking forward to it. And now," Emma steps closer to Ursula. "I have no idea why. No idea."

Starring Ursula down, Emma questions her with a devious and demeaning tone. "Aren't you supposed to be a squid?"

Ursula struggles against her magical confinement. "The curse did this to me."

"Ah." Emma says shortly. Before turning away from her, Emma examines Ursula up and down one last time. "What a shame. I can see why you're so upset. You are even uglier in person than as a squid."

I snicker at Emma's comment quietly along with other tied up villains. Emma doges Ursula's spitball right in time, walking further down the line.

Without a word, Emma strips Jafar of his staff and rips the hook of Captain Hook's hand. She steps back. "Wow," she exclaims with excitement. "That was more fun than I thought it was going to be."

"You have no idea who you're messing with lady," Mother Gothel starts. "You're not as powerful as you think. After all, your little fairy friends had to come save you."

"We'll find you alone," Hades threatens. "And you'll be sorry they weren't there to save me. Because trust me, darling, all magic-"

"Has a price." Emma finishes for Hades. "Trust me, I know." Emma digs Jafar's staff in the mud and leans on it. "But, see, here's the thing. I thought we had a deal. You people stay away from me and my friends and I stay away from you and your evil Disney plotting."

The villains stay quiet. Some of them are scared of the fairies, some of Emma. Others try to communicate with each other, already scheming.

"And now, it seems we have quite the problem before us." Emma starts playing with the hook, tapping against the staff. "You have broken our deal by coming here; threatening my true love and our family, and destroying their house."

True Love.

Family.

Her words repeat in my mind as she continues. "You see, I'm angry because you attacked my friends and you're angry because you're magically pinned to the a side of a house." Her sarcastic voice kicks in. "What a predicament…what a predicament." As Emma continues to tap the hook against the staff, magic sparks begin to fly out. It takes a few seconds for her to notice. Once she does a "Whoa!" escapes her lips.

The whole line of villains laugh at her.

Their mockery brings Emma's anger back. "There might be a time in the future when one of you finds me alone and attempts to collect your revenge. Yesterday, if you told me that, I'll admit I might've even been a little scared. But now," Emma laughs. "I'm looking at you people and I'm thinking, 'I'm supposed to be scared of them?' I'll let in on a little secret, if Maleficent didn't scare me, there's no way in hell you people can."

When did Emma see Maleficent?

And why isn't Maleficent with the rest of her conspirators?

"That's because she was still a dragon," Cruella de Vil speaks out. "You misunderstand how we work, sweetheart. Animals are pitiful creatures that we easily take advantage of, with them not talking and all. But us bonded together?" There's a pitiful look on her face as she addresses Emma. "Sweetie, there's no way you can take us on alone."

Prince James walks nobly down the steps. "Well, she's not alone." He crosses his arms. "And she's never going to be alone. That's the one great power she has over you. See, what you people refuse to acknowledge, but know is true, is the fact that the second one of pisses another you turn on each other, but that will never happen to Emma."

"What a sweet little speech," Mother Gothel mocks. "It was so…what's the word I'm looking for…so charming?"

The line laughs again.

The fairies begin to glide past Emma.

For a second, the line stands straighter, acting scared, but the next they're laughing harder than ever.

Ursula, in the center, looks down the line to her right and to her left. "What do you say, boys? I've had enough of this."

Everything happens at once. With their own magic, the villains break through the fairies' trap. Captain Hook reaches out for his hook, Jafar takes back his staff, and they both use their contraptions to capture Emma and hold her to them. The staff is over Emma's waist, the hook at her throat.

Everyone freezes.

Prince James is the first to speak. His voice tries to be strong through its shakiness. "Emma is the savior. Your savior. You kill her and you don't go home."

"Kill her?" Jafar asks, offended.

"Who said anything about killing her?" Captain Hook adds.

"Don't you people know anything about us?" Jafar's voice creeps into Emma's ear. There is fear on her eyes, but Emma face remains brave as the hook goes back and forth on her neck, teasing her skin. "We would never kill you. We would just enjoy you, take you into our secret, little, world." I come closer to the scene to hear his last words in her ear. "I hear you're used to people trying to take advantage of you. I can't wait until I test out my tricks on you."

I lose rational thought.

All I know is I am storming through the crowd, running to Emma so fast I could be flying. Prince James is right behind me as we grab Jafar with our bare hands. While we pull Jafar off of Emma, the fairies surround the villains once again.

The spell off Jafar's staff hits me right after we detach Emma from the hook.

The last thing I see before I fall is the fairies overpowering the villains…somehow running them off in different directions…off Father's property.

Then everything goes black.

"Pinocchio." My name is whispered in my head. "Pinocchio."

My eyes won't open.

"You said the spell would wear off by now." Emma's voice booms out. "Geppetto woke up yesterday."

Father's alive and awake!

Then, I register: Emma's here and safe!

One would think these realizations and excitements would be enough for my eyes to open.

"We must remember," the Blue Fairy tells her. "Magic acts differently here."

Emma's voice is angry. "Is that why the fairies' hold on the villains didn't work?"

"I don't like that word, Emma." She pauses, "But yes, that's probably why they could break through our restraints."

"And they have their own type of magic," Emma adds.

"That too," The Blue Fairy concedes sadly.

"So, what now? I've tried true love's kiss. It won't work."

"Pinocchio was hit with a spell, not a curse," the fairy says softly. "He'll wake up soon, I promise."

"And then what? What do we do about the ones who escaped?"

The Blue Fairy sighs. "Well, you and your Father captured Jafar and Captain Hook. The others? I don't know. I would advise not to go looking for them if I was you, though."

There is silence and then I hear footsteps walking away.

"Pinocchio," Emma says harshly. "Your allotted time for recovering is up. You need to open your eyes. Now."

Magically my eyes open.

"So demanding," I say before I turn to her. When find each other's eyes, there is nothing but annoyance in hers. "So bossy."

"Urg!" Emma exclaims in frustration, she flops herself on the edge of my bed, and I laugh at her exasperation. "It's not funny!" She reaches for me. I entwine our fingers. "There have already been too many times I've almost lost someone I love because of magic."

I sit up to kiss her. "Magic has a price," I remind her lightly.

"I hate magic." Emma states firmly.

I begin to stroke her hair, brushing it back behind her ear. "Oh, come on, it's not that bad."

I smile, but she just leans into me, burying her head in my neck.

"Pinocchio!" Father calls out my name from the door. I turn to him and our eyes meet.

Emma breaks from me so Father can take her spot.

He is hugging me so tightly that I almost can't breathe.

"I told you not to scare me like that again."

I pull back so I can look at him properly. He looks perfectly healthy, not even tired. "Well, you gave me quite a scare yourself, so I guess we're even."

Father runs his hand through my hair and down my cheek. "Oh, my boy."

There's a knock on the door. It's only then I have a chance to look around.

I have no idea where we are.

Prince James opens the door with a smile.

"Pinocchio," he says warmly. "It's nice to see you're awake. Emma was so worried about you."

"Thank you." I turn from him to Emma. "Where are we?"

Emma smiles. "We're in the nun's old convent. The fairies converted part of their home to a heeler hospital for spells and curses."

Oh. That makes sense.

I should have known that actually. It shows how much I visit my favorite fairy.

"I hate to interrupt." Prince James says, walking further into the room. "But I was wondering if I could have a private word with Pinocchio."

Great. What have I done now?

Emma looks suspicious of her Father too as she walks to the door.

"Be nice." She requests threateningly. "Please."

Father squeezes my arm and then stands. "I'll be right outside. Okay?"

"Okay."

As Father exits, Prince James pulls a chair to my bedside and sits in it.

We smile at each other awkwardly but I break from his glance before he speaks.

"So, I've been dreading having this conversation with you ever since you woke Emma up with true love's kiss." I sit up straighter and my forehead creases in confusion. "But I'm afraid I must talk to you about it now. If only for the safety of the town."

"The safety of the town?"

"Yes." He pauses for a moment, captures my gaze and holds it. "I was wondering when you are planning to ask my daughter to marry you."

* * *

A/N: If Pinocchio wasn't expecting that question, he should've been. You can't just wake someone up with true love's kiss and not consider it...right?


	27. Crashes Are Heaven For A Sinner Released

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 27: The Crashes Are Heaven For A Sinner Released_

Ask Emma to marry me?

Marry her?

I sit up in my sickbed, which I no longer need, looking anywhere in the room but to the man who despised me a week ago.

"Pinocchio," he says my name to calm me. It doesn't work. "You must know there are many reasons for touching base with you on this. I realize I never properly or respectfully asked you about your intentions towards my daughter. For that I am sorry." He takes a deep breath. "After everything that has happened over the last week, I feel we should address it. Since Emma declared you as her true love to the town, calling you family, there has been a quiet scandal starting to brew in rumor circles."

My head starts throbbing from too many thoughts colliding into each other.

"Hold on," are the first words I am able to form. "A scandal? Has Emma heard anything?"

"No." Prince James says quickly. "She doesn't. At least I hope not. I wanted to catch you before you were released and heard anything yourself."

Right now, I'd rather hear it from anyone else than Prince James.

How has he kept Emma from the town gossip?

Marry her?

Does he know his daughter?

Prince James is waiting for me to reply. I still can't form any of the right words. Should I start by reminding him Emma has never had a stable home, and the thought of marriage would scare the shit out of her? Or I should I say both Emma and I, while natives of Fairytale land, grew up in this world, and people here don't usually marry after three weeks?

When silent minutes pass, Prince James concedes to be the first to speak. "So, what have you been thinking? I will hate to see Emma marry so soon, but I want her to be happy."

Here's what I'm thinking: I need to stop our conversation and freeze it while my head stops throbbing.

"I-" I concede to his impatience, but soon regret it. "I-I just…" My conscience finally kicks in and I find words that won't make me sound like an idiot. "I have just been really careful not to push her." Yes, those words are honest and feel right. "Emma's emotional safety is really important to me. I don't think she's ready to be pushed further right now. Do you?"

Surprise is evident on Prince James' face. He sits up straighter and looks at me impressed, as if seeing me in a completely new way.

When he doesn't answer me, I continue. "And, I don't think it makes sense to strip Emma of her first stable home she's ever had."

"Of course not," Prince James agrees. "That's not my intention. I know stability is important to Emma's situation right now. Of course, the two of you would stay with us."

And the hits keep coming…

He must see the look on my face, because he says, "Don't look that surprised. You must remember you lived at court at home."

Living at court, inside the castle walls, is totally different than sharing a bathroom.

"Besides," Prince James continues. "Your Father is already living with us as it is."

What?

"He is?" My disbelief is clear in my behavior. "Why?"

"Well," His tone is obvious, as if I should already have put two and two together. "Your house was vandalized, we thought it was safest if your Father stayed with us."

Wow, who knew true love's kiss could not only break curses but also mend our deep family strife?

I am once again speechless, though for different reasons.

"So." I stop talking, wondering if I'll regret my words. "You guys had a chance to talk?"

Prince James smiles. "Yeah, a little bit."

I don't return his smile, still a little confused or…overwhelmed.

"Which is part of why I'm here, I guess," he nervously starts. "Now that your Father and I are on the same page, I would like to be on the same page with you." He pauses, adjusting his body language. "Is there any reason you haven't been planning to propose to my daughter other than making sure not to push her?"

Finally, I am able to wrap my head around his question.

Is there any other reason?

"No…" I try to expand my thought process, to explain. I realize I can't put it more perfectly than I already have: I've just been focusing on not pushing her.

I impress Prince James again. It is a strange kind of honor.

"A father can't ask for more than that." He pauses and then adds breathlessly, "Thank you, Pinocchio, for everything."

It's not selfish when I think: I didn't do anything for him.

I did everything for Emma.

There is silence as he waits for me to speak, to acknowledge his gratitude, but I can't or won't. I am not sure which.

When a small smile appears on my face, I suddenly realize he knows everything I've just thought in the last ten seconds.

"Thank you," he whispers again.

We sit comfortably in the room together, finally able to enjoy the peace between us.

An image of Granny's suspicious face guarding the Charming's home comes to mind.

"So," I start cautiously. "Is the town gossip really something to be concerned about?"

Prince James exhales deeply, "I don't know. My guess is telling them anything is better than nothing."

I chuckle in my head. "Wait," I can't help smiling. "Is Prince Charming actually condoning lying?"

Prince James matches my smile. "No," he tries to say seriously, but fails. I let out laugh, which he takes nicely. Soon, though the moment passes, and Prince James becomes introspective. "I proposed to Snow right after I woke her up with true love's kiss," he shares nostalgically.

Oh.

That's why he was waiting to have this conversation…and dreading it.

"I guess Snow and I set the standard around here," he admits, pride seeping through his voice.

"Yeah," I say slowly, my smile fading. "I guess you did."

"So, Pinocchio, have any ideas?"

A lie comes to mind on instinct. "We could always tell them we're already married."

Prince James's eyes slowly widen. "Who's condoling lying now?"

"Just thinking of Emma's safety and reputation. We wouldn't want Emma subject to anymore scandal, would we?"

"No," He says slowly. "But I don't think lying is the way to handle it either." He pauses to think. "But, hearing why you haven't proposed, it's the best solution at the moment."

"I…I'll have to talk to Emma," At some point. "It's her decision too…Although, she has had a lot going on lately, so…"

Prince James sighs. "Too much if you ask me, and these last three days have been no different."

"The excitement never ends around here, does it?"

"In Storybrook?" Prince James' sarcastic voice comes out. It reminds me of Emma. "The American town full of Fairytale characters? Never."

We share a smile. He stands after a moment and lifts the chair to the corner of the room.

Prince James opens the door just enough for me to see Father nervously waiting outside. Father relaxes when he notices the smiles on our faces.

Before exiting the room completely, Prince James turns back to me. "I'm sure we'll touch base soon," his words are not threatening. "Thank you," He repeats again, but now there's more emotion behind them. "For protecting Emma's heart."

The second after he speaks, Prince James disappears: emotion, perhaps, overwhelming him.

I wouldn't blame him, either. His last words of gratitude leave me speechless as well.

Father is impatient for news as he enters my room.

Deciding I'm well enough, my stiff legs move over the side of the bed. I'm thankful I'm in my normal clothes and not a hospital gown.

"What did he what?" Father's questions rush out of him. "Why were both of you smiling? You talked for a long time, what did he say?"

I just smile as he speaks, not ready to divulge any information yet. I reach for my boots, and start putting the left one on before Father physically reaches out to stop me.

"Pinocchio!" Father exclaims, "Is everything okay?"

I look up at him. "Yeah," I answer nonchalantly. My one word reply isn't enough for him. I add confidence to my voice. "Yes. You don't have to worry about Prince James threatening me anymore, okay? He was just," I try not to lie. "Uh, concerned about Emma."

"Pinocchio," Father speaks with disapproval. "Don't lie."

You know, out of all the people who say that, the edge in Father's voice is always the worst.

"Not lying," I correct him. "Just avoiding the question." I take my shoe back and begin to put it on. "He told me you are staying with his family."

Father sits up straighter, "Not for long. Emma says she has a plan for restoring the house."

I laugh out of disbelief. "Emma? Since when is she the magic expert?"

"Maybe she's a quick leaner," Father offers.

"Doubtful," I say lightly. I reach my other shoe. "I bet she's just found a non-magical way to it."

Father chuckles. "Probably. It's very interesting watching her interact with her family."

I lean down to tie the right shoe, leaving his gaze. "I'm surprised you didn't stay with Jiminy."

I sit back up to find an uncomfortable expression on his face. "It was safer for me at the Charming's."

"Don't lie." I mimic his words.

"Not lying." He repeats mine.

I sit up straighter, slapping my hands on my thighs, finally deciding to call him out. "You're really not going to tell me what's going on?"

Our gazes lock on each other.

"Nothing's going on," he lies casually.

Father really thinks he can bullshit a bullshitter. Interesting.

He must have forgotten the moral of Pinocchio.

I stand up angrily. Father quickly follows. "Fine," is all I say to his face.

He stops me before I'm out the door.

"Pinocchio," he cries. "Wait," he begs.

I turn back. "What?"

Father hesitates while I grow impatient. "You – Tinkerbell needs to clear you to leave."

Anger keeps growing in me. "Tell her I have an in with the Blue Fairy."

I leave before I hear his response.

After Prince James' conversation, Father's conversation has completely overwhelmed me. I'm impressed that I even remember to stay on Storybrooke's backstreets, avoiding most townspeople, still processing information from both exchanges.

I enter the police station before I realize it's been my destination the whole time. My legs bring me to Emma.

Rounding the corner to the station's glass door, his green vest enters my field of vision.

Strombli.

Another reason I'm grateful I didn't think about where I was going.

I freeze, looking at his back through the window. It's about time he spent time in a cage, after all the times he locked me up in one. I smile. Justice has been served!

I am still looking, more like staring, at Strombli's back when I hear Emma's voice.

"Hey," she greets me sweetly. "I didn't think you'd be out so soon."

My head is too full of worry and fear for Strombli to acknowledge her.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Emma pulling the station's door closed and moving me further down the hall.

"Damn, those Disney villains sure do a number on their protagonists." Emma kisses my cheek to bring me back to the present.

I turn to face her. When our eyes meet and Emma smiles a completely different fear within me ignites.

Of course I want to marry Emma.

She leaves my gaze to examine my whole body. My frozen eyes don't leave her face as images of our future flash before me.

The wedding.

The cake.

The children.

The castle back home.

I don't how many minutes go by as we examine each other for different reasons.

"Are you sure you should be out of the hospital? Because, I got to tell you, your paralyzed look is scaring me."

For some reason, the children are all blond.

"I don't know if Pinocchio will kill me for saying this, but, Strombli is not that bad. It's really Capitan Hook who sends shivers down my spine."

I realize all my images of our future are in Fairytale Land. None are in Storybrooke.

"August!" Emma yells out my pseudonym.

I blink. "Sorry."

"What is up with you? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," I smile. "I'm good. Sorry."

Emma takes a deep breath, "I don't mean to frighten you even more, but I should tell you, I have to release them tomorrow."

If any confused thoughts were still running around in my head, they all cease immediately. "What? Why?"

"Well," Emma becomes restless, picking at my shirt collar. "I can't hold them here forever. What I am I supposed to do? I can't kill them for pining you against a wall or vandalizing your home."

"You can hold them forever on the grounds of simply being part of the Disney villain club." I tell her seriously.

"Wow," She smiles, clearly impressed. "Usually I'm the one mocking Disney. You're pretty awesome at it too."

"Emma," I warn her.

"August," she uses my fake name again. "I can't just collect them, lock them all in a cemented cellar and wait for them to kill each other."

"Hey, now that's a great idea."

Emma crosses her arms and shakes her head back and forth.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm proving to Henry that good can actually win." I start to protest, but she continues. "I promise you they will pay for what they did. I do have a plan, but I'm going to play by the rules," she tells me with such authority and confidence I know I shouldn't argue with her.

"What's your plan?"

Emma steps away from me and smiles. "I will tell you after you talk to Strombli."

"Excuse me?" I object with disgust.

"Yes," she pulls me towards the glass door. Strombli has turned around in his cage. We quickly find one another. My stomach almost upturns. "It's about time you see this man for who he is: A misunderstood, pathetic, greedy man who you can take any day of the week."

Without another word, she opens the door and pushes me face to face with Strombli.

* * *

A/N: I love leaving Pinocchio there - thrown together with his villain! Ah, come on, I'm not evil...just giving him another chance to be brave...


	28. In The Arms Of The Ocean Deliver Me

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 28: In The Arms Of The Ocean Deliver Me_

"Pinocchio!" Strombli calls out. "How nice of you to come visit me." His voice is already sinister and we haven't started at each other yet.

I walk further into the police station, expressionless, and lean on a desk across from Stombli's cage. I don't acknowledge him yet, turning my head to Captain Hook in one jail cell and Jafar in the other. Except for their wicked smiles, they don't make a noise or taunt me in any way. They give the helm of their villainous ship to Strombli; they will delightfully sit in their cells and enjoy the show.

Quickly, I turn the opposite direction to Emma's private office to see Emma actually is filling out paperwork.

I guess it's nice she has enough confidence in me not to baby-sit.

"Checking to make sure your girlfriend is watching you, Pinocchio? The little puppet needs protecting, does he?"

Finally, I snap my attention to him, giving him the satisfaction that his had words irked me.

Thankfully, I have enough confidence to smile at him, even let out a little laugh. I stay quiet though, just for another moment, still soaking in the image of him inside a cage while I'm outside of it.

The smile on my face makes his disappear. I'm sure he's afraid I have some magic, some plan he's unprepared for, to overpower him.

No, thanks to Emma, I have no plan at all.

"How does it feel to be in a cage, Strombli?" I start, not giving him enough silence to respond. "It's comfy right? The metal bars are spaced just right so they penetrate your body in all the wrong places. Makes you wish you could at least have a cell, right?"

Strombli's twisted smile reappears. He stands, walks to the closest metal bar and crosses his arms. "You think you're so smart. What, now you've explored the world, you think you've grown up enough to possess some confidence you didn't have before?" He laughs. "Boy, your memory must suck. Wasn't it just three days ago I had you pined against a wall begging for mercy."

I did not beg for mercy.

I would never beg for mercy.

Well…only as a puppet, and that's different.

Right?

"You wait until I'm released, I can't wait to have you within reach. I'll smash your head into the wall until it really cracks."

"I can't wait." I say smugly. "Because every time you do, you'll end up back here." Strombli breaks eye contact with me, and I know I'm heading in the right direction. I stand. "You see, you're different than the rest of the members of your little club." I walk as close to the cage as I can, still staying out of arms' reach. "You're a pathetic, weak man, that doesn't have any magic." I shrug, putting on an expression of pity. "And isn't that a shame? Man, no wonder you made such a scene when you found me, you needed to earn points in your club."

He reaches out to grab me, but of course, can't. "You little-"

"I'm not a puppet anymore, Strombli." I inform him with a smile. "I'd recommend catching up with your own fairytale. Right now, I am so much more of a man than you are."

Strombli laughs again.

I stand straighter.

"Oh, my dear boy," Strombli looks at me with pity as well, but it's his voice, his size, that still sends shivers through me. "I don't care whether you're a flimsy puppet or a phony man. All I care about is my money, and after the talking, singing puppet escaped, I lost all of it."

I manage to scoff at him. "I'm so sorry," I say sarcastically, but then add seriously. "You make me sad, Stromboli. You are too obsessed with your money to even see other possibilities life has to offer. The curse just broke! You have your life back. You should be celebrating, not sitting here in a cage. You don't want cook? Don't cook. Don't work Granny, I'm sure she'll finds someone else who wants the job."

"How cute, the puppet-born boy is giving me a 'make the most out of life' talk. Thanks," he adds rudely. "I definitely want to go seize the day now."

Laughter erupts from the jail cells.

"What good advice, Pinocchio." Captain Hook teases. "You're right, of course, one should always seize the day. After being trapped in time for 28 years, it is once again ticking away. The question, really, is not to cook or not to cook, but to capture or not to capture."

Jafar walks to the door of his jail cell and puts his hands through the gaps in the bars. "Reasoning with our 'club,' as you call it, is always the wrong choice, Pinocchio. Anyone could tell you that, but hey, I am talking to Pinocchio, the puppet who learns life lessons the hard way."

I turn in Jafar's direction on impulse. He must know my action was instinctive and undesired because as soon as we are facing each other, he winks at me.

It makes me sick.

I can't look at Jafar, so I refocus on Stromboli. His eyebrows rise, as if saying: _Your move._

Yes, it is my move.

Decision made, and my anger growing, I walk to Stromboli's cage, reach in, and pull his vest lapels to me, forcing his body to press against the metal bars.

He reaches for me through the bars, but his arm angle is awkward and I manage to shove him off. "No. Uh-huh. You're listening to me." I whisper so Captain Hook and Jafar can't hear. I learn my angry, whispering voice can be quite threatening when I want it to be. "You're different from them. You don't have to be part of their club. I'm not saying this for my sake. You go ahead and try to kill me as many times as you want, it won't make you happy. You want to be happy? Go play with some real puppets, entertain people, make money. You're Stromboli, the best puppet master in all of Fairytale Land. Your shows can be as great as they were at home. You can make more money here, I promise you."

"Promise me?" Stromboli laughs again. "You're Pinocchio. You can't promise me anything."

I release his lapels and push him back to the back of his cage. "You're loss. I hope you enjoy your cowardly, little position in your club." My voice rises. "Because the second they find out you have nothing to offer them, you'll be ousted before you can say, 'firewood.'"

Firmly, I turn from him to Emma's office. To my surprise, a crowd of onlookers gathered to watch my confrontation.

The Blue Fairy, Tinker Bell, Snow White, Henry, Emma, and Jiminy all have their rebel, fight faces on when I storm into the office.

What is everyone doing here?

"Enjoying the party?" I ask sarcastically. Anger still resonates from my last confrontation.

Emma searches for my gaze and smiles. "Yes. We were actually," she motions to the TV in the corner, resting on some cabinets. "Nice speech." She says with a nod. "Inspiring. Made me want to step up and seize the day myself."

I cross my arms, truly annoyed at her mocking. "What's with the crowd?"

"We're here to watch their punishment," Henry announces gleefully.

"Excuse me?"

The Blue Fairy steps in, "Tinker Bell and I are here to oversee the prisoners' sentence."

My eyebrows furrow. "Which is hearing Pinocchio give a half-assed inspirational speech?"

The Blue Fairy smiles sadly at me, but instead of answering, she walks past me to through the door to address the prisoners, Tinker Bell in tow.

I turn to Emma, looking for answers, but all she does is raise her eyebrows at me.

"Come on," Henry pulls me. "Let's go watch."

Snow White, Emma and Jiminy follow Henry and me out the door. Henry drags me into the hall, where we see the fairies have handcuffed the prisoners by magic and are leading them out of the building.

"Where are we going?"

Henry looks back at me to smile. "Where do you think we're going?"

I avoid Henry's boyish grin and look back at our parade of people. Directly behind me is Snow White, followed by the Blue Fairy and Jiminy. Bringing up the rear are Emma and Tinker Bell, who walk behind Stromboli, Jafar, and Captain Hook.

I narrow my eyes on Emma. She is too happy, too confident for her first time punishing Disney villains.

Father's words replay in my head:_ "Emma says she has a plan for restoring the house."_

I am torn between being angry and laughing at Emma's attempt of a creative punishment.

I slow down, catching Jiminy's eye, and wait for him. He smiles when we're face to face. "It's nice to see you safe and sound once more."

"I guess I do just as well with you as my conscience than without."

He playfully knocks his elbow into mine. "You do just fine on your own."

"Well, I never thought I'd say this, but I've missed you despite."

Jiminy's smile widens. "We were a good team, weren't we?"

"Yeah…we were." I'm silent for a moment, gearing my confidence up, as I pull Jiminy away from the parade. "You want to tell me why Father isn't staying with you?"

Other than his smile disappearing and his eyes widening, Jiminy's reaction is much more subtle than Father's.

"He was safer-"

"Don't!" I speak over his excuses. My words start coming out so fast; it is hard to control them. "Lie to Pinocchio. Don't tell me you're not lying. I'm sick of the lies and the cover-ups. Something has been going on between guys since I returned from Prince James' exile."

Jiminy pulls me further away from the parade and stops once we've rounded a corner.

"This is none of you business!" He lectures me like a parent again.

"Like hell it isn't." I state firmly, my anger growing.

Jiminy eyelids slide down and he shakes his head back and forth. "Pinocchio." He says my name with a hint of condemnation.

"You can't tell me it's nothing and you can't tell me he was safer at the Charming's. I want a real, solid reason why my father and my former conscious are no longer on speaking terms."

His eyes pop open. "We got into a fight, okay?" Jiminy raises his arms from his side. "A fight. People fight. Is that what you want to hear?"

I shake my head. "No, because it's still bullshit. What could be so big that tears the two of you apart? The three of us are a team. Was it about me?"

Finally his anger and annoyance show on his face. "No, selfish puppet. It wasn't about you."

Usually, I would be hurt by his insult. Now, I know we're making progress.

I don't like guessing, but I feel trapped. "Was it about your murder of his parents?"

His forehead creases and pain is in his eyes. "Yes." He says shortly. "That was it."

I start to examine him. I need Emma to come tell me if he's lying or not.

"I don't believe you." I tell him.

An indifferent look covers his face. "That's too bad," He shrugs. "You know, suddenly, I don't want to watch Stromboli suffer over repairing your house."

"Fine." I say nonchalantly.

"Fine." He says, an angry edge reentering his words.

We stare at each other, frozen in our anger, for another moment before Jiminy leans away from me, his shoulder leading the way as he leaves. I turn in the opposite direction.

Just like running to our yard full of villains from the basement three days ago, I have to stop to take in the scene in from of me.

Stromboli, Captain Hook, and Jafar are restoring the house, cleaning up the yard, and fixing the villains' vandalism without using magic.

Now, that's quite a punishment if I'd every seen one: Repairing magical damage without using magic.

I smile as I approach Snow White. "Emma came up with this idea?"

Snow White turns to me and greets me warmly. "Genius, if you ask me." Pride commands her voice. "None of us could have dreamed it."

There's a peaceful moment between us as we face each other. Then we both turn to watch the non-magical show.

Emma is commanding the villains, with Henry at her side, outside the little fence bordering our property. It's only then I see the thin purple smoke line above the fence.

The Blue Fairy and Tinker Bell have magically entrapped the villains inside.

Snow White moves closer to me, her movement grabs my attention to refocus. "James shared the news about Emma with me."

My eyes snap to hers. While, one I might be excited about talking about our impending marriage. I really need to talk to Emma first.

"Thank you for helping her deal with the her foster father's passing." She says quietly. "I know she would never talk about something like that with us…at least not at this point."

Oh. That.

"I didn't do anything," I say honestly.

A devastated expression passes on her face, disappearing as soon as it comes. "Whatever you did, it was more than I could do. So, thank you."

I have no choice but to say, "You're welcome."

Snow White shifts uncomfortably and I know there's more to her seeking me out than a simple thank-you. "Pinocchio, I wanted to…I was hoping if you might do me a favor." My eyebrows rise and a little bit of Mary-Margaret comes out in her. Her words speed up as if she might be doing something wrong. "That woman who called, whoever she is, keeps calling Emma and I was wondering if you could find out why…if, of course you don't know why already."

Why is it I know too much information about Emma's family and not enough about my own?

"Are you asking me to lie or to be disloyal to Emma? You know she wouldn't be okay with us sharing her secrets"

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm just worried about her."

I smile. "I know you are."

"Are you talking about me?" I hear Emma's voice before I see her. I turn to include her and notice Henry still standing with Tinker Bell, watching the villains.

Snow White looks guilty as Emma waits for an answer.

"Yes, we are." I smile. "Is that a problem?" I tease her.

Emma, noticing my tone, plays along. "No. But you keep talking privately to my parents and I might begin to think something's going on."

I begin to form an answer before Snow White's rambling takes over. "We-we're just trying to fulfill our jobs as parents, Emma, getting to know the man in your life."

"Right…" Emma says disbelieving her.

"Oh! Look Henry wants me to come watch with him." To avoid any further awkwardness, Snow White quickly steps out of our conversation.

Emma turns to me, "So, what were you actually talking about?"

Dramatically, I pull Emma into my arms. "I need your help, Emma."

For a second, she looks at me seriously, worry about to come over her, but then laughs. "Stromboli scaring you? Do you need protecting?"

I hold her tighter in my arms. Father and Jiminy's uncomfortable faces surface in my mind. "I need your help with a family secret of mine."

"You mean the not so secretive secret that the whole town is expecting us to marry – like – next weekend?"

My breath catches at her insinuation. Still, that wasn't the secret I was talking about.

* * *

A/N: My bad for not making it clear Pinocchio wasn't actually thrown into Stromboli's cage - I meant it figuratively. I think that would've be quite dangerous and a risky move on Emma's part. I extremely hope the chapter met your expectations despite!


	29. Deliver Me

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 29: Deliver Me_

Gradually, my arms release Emma. Even though we are not touching, our gazes keep each other frozen. Emma has small, knowing smile on her face, which makes my serious expression even more strained.

"You can't stand there forever, Hook." Tinker Bell's voice booms across the yard. "Stop wasting time and work. No! You need to handle each plant gently. It's really not that hard."

Emma turns to watch the action. I follow her gaze to Captain Hook trying to handle Father's flowers carefully. If I didn't care about them, I would think it was funny: someone so boisterous handling something so delicate.

Scanning the yard for the other villains, I find Stromboli replacing our front window and Jafar in the midst of trying to figure out how the workshop-garage door works. Emma's smile tortures me, though, and before long I drag her away from the scene.

"Hey!" Emma protests, trying to yank her elbow out of my grip. "All you had to do was ask me to follow you and I would. You could've even whispered in my ear, in your romantic, sexy voice. Okay! Seriously," we turn around a tree trunk so no one can see us. "Let me go!" Emma demands in a half annoyed, half-amused voice.

When we come to a full stop, Emma violently jerks her arm back. I step from her. I had a whole speech prepared, and now I have no idea what I wanted to say.

"What's your problem?" She complains further.

I take a deep breath, trying to form words, but can't. Emma has an impatient expression on her face, which doesn't help my thought process.

All I manage to say is, "You know?"

Emma transforms from an agitated woman to an empathic one. "Of course I know, dimwit, I'm Sheriff and it's all around town." She laughs. "Was that your big secret?"

Why is she handling the topic so lightly?

"No…."

"Oooo, I'm hooked. Tell me your secret."

Are we really going to avoid around the subject?

I try, "How are you so okay with this?"

"Well, actually, I don't know what your secret is, so I don't know if I'm okay with it."

She knows what I meant. "Emma…"

Emma crosses her arms and shifts uncomfortably. "I don't care what the town thinks, I don't care if Fairytale characters expect us to marry right away. We grew up in this world and we're going to do what's best for us." She stops speaking when sadness comes over her. "I thought you understood that."

"I do." I state so quickly I almost talk over her. "I really do."

Although, I hope she knows we are not done talking about it.

"Good." Her words clearly end the subject. "Now what secret has you so flustered?"

"I don't know," I say honestly. Emma's confusion, almost annoyance, is clear when she thinks I'm lying to her. My frustration builds when I don't know what to say. The pain must be evident on my face because Emma's expression turns softer. Only her shift in attitude gives me the courage to speak. "I-I need you to come over for dinner. There's something going on between Jiminy and Father and I can't figure it out."

Suddenly she's concerned, and I love her for it. "Is everything okay?"

"No. Everything's not okay. They won't tell me what's going on, but it's clear something is…They're fighting all the time." I begin let all my emotions go, but remind myself I can't…at least not right now.

"Hey," Emma says softly. She reaches out to me. "It's okay. We'll figure it out. I'm happy to have dinner with them. I have to ask you, though, are you sure you want to know? Every family has their secrets, some are best left untold."

"Jiminy is not family." I state still wondering if it's true or not. "And don't defend them to me."

Emma releases me after my strong response.

"Are you repeating my request not to defend parents back to me?"

It takes effort for me to remember our conversation from months ago. "Jiminy is not my second parent." I correct her.

If anybody is my second parent it's the Blue Fairy.

Surprised, Emma says gently, "He sure acts like one."

"Yeah." My response comes out too quickly. "That's why crickets are so annoying."

Emma laughs out loud, reaching for me again. She kisses me through her smile. I pull her in closer, wrapping my arms around her back. Emma releases me to say, "I'm sure I'll find out how annoying he is at dinner tonight."

"Finally someone who will understand what I'm going through!"

Emma shakes her head, acting disappointed, but isn't. She begins to walk away from me. "You're horrible!" She yells out before rejoining her family at the fence.

Wanting a moment or two alone, I lean back on the tree, watching the villains suffer from afar. They are almost done. Jafar manages to figure out the garage door and is now realigning the little wheels to their track by hand.

Soon, the image of the villains' labor turns blurry from my mind reeling over my conversations from the last two hours. Father's words, Emma's nonchalant behavior, Jiminy's anger, Prince James' gratitude all circle in my head, causing my headache from earlier to resurface.

"My boy," I hear Father's voice from behind me. I don't turn to acknowledge him. Soon, he walks in front of me so I have no choice. "I wanted to apologize. I'm sorry I haven't been honest with you." He sighs deeply. "I guess I still thought of you as my little boy and not as the man you are."

I narrow my focus on him, still trying to figure him out. "Why would you keep something from me that is obviously causing you stress and putting a wall between us?"

"I wanted to protect you."

"Protect me?" I challenge loudly.

"Pinocchio," Father begs quietly. "Please."

"Are you going to tell me what's going on or not?"

"I will." Father looks back at the crowd at the house. "But not right now."

"Fine. We can talk after Emma and Jiminy come over for dinner tonight."

"What?"

"You said you wanted Emma to come over for dinner. Well, she's not coming over without Jiminy, so I hope you guys can make up to the point of tolerating each other through dinner."

Fear runs through Father's body. "You are out of line."

I stand from the tree. "You said Jiminy was family. Emma invited me to have dinner with her family, now it's time to for her to have dinner with mine."

Yes, after hearing Emma's words and remembering everything Jiminy and I have gone through together, I have consciously decided that he is family…and always was.

I try to persuade Father, "Our first night back in our newly restored home should include all our family. Don't you think?"

Father lights up, "You're calling Emma family."

I nod. "And Jiminy too." Some of the tension relieves between us. "And we are hosting a family dinner tonight to celebrate, okay?"

Father reluctantly agrees with a nod.

"Good," I step away from him. "Now I have to go to bed. I have a splitting headache and falling into my subconscious is my only option right now other than exploding."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah," I walk past him. "I'll be fine." I call back.

The fairies have rounded up the villains and are restating the laws of the town to them.

I walk to Emma, give her a kiss on the cheek, and whisper my napping plans for the rest of the afternoon.

Taking a deep breath of courage, I enter the yard making sure I stay on the Blue Fairy's right. My gaze locks with Stromboli's and I stop in my tracks. There's something different about him. I'm sure if there was no consequences to killing me, he still would, but now it's almost like he would rather see me as a stranger he could pass on the street than have any history with me at all.

Without remembering the rest of my journey to my room, I fall on my bed and close my eyes; finally able to give my head some much needed relief.

"Pinocchio," a voice breaks through my subconscious again. I turn over and ignore it assuming it's one of my usual visitors – all of which contributed to my headache today. "You're funny," the voice says again.

The voice reminds me of what I would say when I was a little boy.

"Henry?" I ask, my eyes still closed.

"Your Father told me to come and ask you if you were feeling well enough for dinner. It's almost ready."

Slowly, my eyes open to reveal Henry, taller than I remember, standing before me, grinning. There's a twinkle in his eye, and I am reminded of how smart her kid is. I sit up and run my fingers through my hair. "I didn't know you were coming, Henry."

"Apparently, I here to relieve some tension…Although I didn't feel much when I came in." He crosses his arms, and looks down at me with a critical eye. "Are you the source of this tension, Pinocchio?"

I need to stand. Henry's ability to look down at me is making me really uncomfortable.

He is still playing the part of crime investigator when I start towards the kitchen. "If anybody in this house a the source of tension, it is probably the selfish fairytale character."

I turn back to him, and reiterate a fact he already knows. "We are not fairytale characters. We are people, Henry."

"I know." He looks offended.

"Did your mother tell you not to judge townspeople by their stereotypes?"

"No…" He answers automatically. "Which one? Grandma told me that actually."

"Good." I start back down the stairs. "So, the stereotypical selfish character is probably not the one causing the tension."

"That's exactly what the guilty would say!"

Spinning around again, I show Henry my annoyed face.

His wide grin greets me.

A sigh escapes me. I go to the kitchen as fast as I can. Emma is helping Father set the candle-lit table while Jiminy takes a sip of wine with a smile. We make eye contact and I know all his anger is forgotten.

"Pinocchio," Father points back to the kitchen. "The salad is on the counter if you would like to bring it in."

Quickly, I retrieve the salad and place it amongst the rest of the food. Lasagna, garlic bread, and green beans fill the room with a wonderful smell.

Henry leaves the investigator behind and politely comes into the room. We silently take our seats and begin passing food around.

"So, Emma." Father interrupts the silence. "Your parents weren't angry that we took you and Henry away from them tonight?"

"Not at all." She answers sweetly before serving Henry some green beans. "Actually they were looking forward to having the house to themselves for once."

"How nice," Jiminy comments, "They haven't had much alone time since the curse broke."

Emma turns to him and smiles, "I try not to think about it."

"Shouldn't you? They have their own relationship to rebuild as well."

See? Crickets are annoying!

Her head turns from Jiminy to me. When our eyes finally meet, she rolls hers, causing both of us to burst out laughing.

"Pinocchio!" Father blurts out, outraged.

"Sorry." Emma regains her composure. "Really." She turns back to Jiminy. "Sorry."

I have to take a bit of lasagna to prevent my smile from returning.

"Emma tells me you've traveled the world, Pinocchio." Henry attempts to smooth over the conversation. "Is it better than Fairytale Land?"

"Oh." Interesting question. "Nothing could be better than home, but parts of the world, little corners of it, definitely come a close second."

"Like where?" Henry asks in such a genuine way, it's hard not to feed his curiosity.

"Some parts of Africa are almost as beautiful as home, even seem like have they own kind of magic. The people in southern Spain are the nicest you'll meet anywhere. The cooks in Italy are the only people who come close to Father's cooking."

"Did you ever tell anyone you were Pinocchio?" Henry continues his inquiry.

"Sure." I savor another bite of food. "But no one ever believed me."

"They didn't?" Jiminy asks, surprised. "I know it is a stretch, but surly people who were around you enough could recognize your true soul."

"I-"

Emma interrupts me, "I don't know, Jiminy. Disney makes quite an impression on world culture. Speaking from experience, people generally accept reality has its limits. To them, Pinocchio can only be an storybook character."

"Like I kept telling Emma," I share with the table. "Sometimes it's hard to see what's right in front of us."

"So, you're telling me," Jiminy clarifies. "You never shared your soul to anyone in the last 28 years?"

I wouldn't put it like that, Jiminy. It really wasn't that bad, but basically yes.

"I don't know why you expect people to share their deepest darkest secrets all the time." Father comments.

"Surly, not all the time." Jiminy is flustered as he continues. "But people need to have some release or they would explode."

Emma smiles. "Of course the shrink would say that."

Now, it is Henry's turn to bust out laughing.

We all look at him, including Jiminy, with endearing. Our smiles pass through the topic to next into dessert. Emma and I start clearing the table, and Henry follows without being asked. We insist Father and Jiminy sit while we clean up.

When I hand Emma the last plate to dry, she whispers, "So, we have a lot of things to talk about."

I almost drop the plate in passing it to her; knots forming in my stomach. "Too many if you ask me."

Emma smiles in understanding. "You want to go find a spot on the porch to talk?"

I freeze. Now?

"Mom!" Henry runs in. "Geppetto said I could teach him BS! It's not a school night. Can we stay longer? Please?"

"Sure."

Henry turns in excitement before he has a chance to thank her. Emma's eyes sparkle in admiration for her son.

Soon, she motions to the door. "Shall we?"

I follow her outside without debate, even though my stomach's knots are tighter than ever.

Emma takes a seat in the furthest corner away from the door. I sit opposite her.

"Your mom told me your social worker keeps calling." My out of the blue comment surprises her. "Only she doesn't know it's your social worker."

"Yeah," Emma looks away. "I know."

"Why don't you just tell her?"

Emma's frustration from pressuring her for answers shows. "I don't want to make a big deal out of it. I don't want to make my parents jealous or uncomfortable."

"It seems like you already have." I inform her, but she ignores me. "Why does she keep calling you?"

Emma sighs. "I made the mistake of telling her I found my parents. Now, she wants me to come and give an inspirational speech."

That's kind of awesome. "Why don't you?"

Emma gapes at me. "I can't leave Storybrooke." Her arms spread in front of her. "Not now. Not to go that far away."

"Sure." I smile, knowing she's hiding how much she hates public speaking. "That's the reason."

Emma chuckles, matching my smile.

After a minute, however, a serious expression forms on her face. I wonder what's wrong. She starts, "You know how your always saying it's hard to see what's right in front of us?"

"Yeah…"

"Okay, well." Emma sighs. She searches me to try to figure out my headspace. "I know what's going on between your Father and Jiminy."

"What?" I blurt out, shocked. I sit up straighter. "How?"

She ignores my question. "Are you sure you want to know, though? Because once you know…you'll know and there's no going back."

"Tell me." I demand without giving her words much thought.

Emma exhales and motions to the kitchen. Our eyes meet and there's softness in hers I wasn't expecting. "Jiminy's in love with your Father."

My breath catches and we both freeze.

Suddenly, I wish I actually considered her question before demanding an answer.

* * *

A/N: Thank you so much for waiting! I wanted to take my time with this chapter and the next, considering the next chapter is the last. :( The good news is the final chapter is basically done...Readers will have to let me know if they want the story ended sooner rather than later. It's a debate I have with myself, but I will share they're some delicious surprises for the final chapter.


	30. Never Let Me Go

**Two Households Of Dignity **

_By Schroederplayspiano_

_Chapter 30: Never Let Me Go_

Looking back on Emma's announcement, I know I should've handled it better. Only now, years later, do I understand I did have the strength, the bravery to be a man in that moment.

But I wasn't.

I'm a little boy, my old puppet self, following Honest John and Gideon, as my motorcycle lures me away from Emma reaching out to me on the porch.

"August!" Emma yells abhorrently from the porch.

I don't turn back to look at her. My only thought is to run, to leave the scene and all of its emotions and never return to it. I'm not running Emma. When I realize Emma is my only liberator from my tortured soul, I finalize my driving destination.

I wait, at our tree outside Storybrooke, for what seems like hours, until Emma arrives.

Her loathsome voice is still with her as she slams her beetle's door closed. "Okay. I know that was a shock for you." Her voice comes closer as she walks through the woods. "But you can't just leave! I had Henry with me."

She is out if breath when she reaches me. I look up at her from my sitting spot; my drained face meeting her fiery one.

When I stay frozen at the foot of the tree, Emma expression changes to one of compassion. She bends down, finds a dry place to sit, and plays with her hands uncomfortably.

Emma tries to level me with her eyes, but I can't meet her penetrating gaze. Still attempting to connect with me, she whispers, "You really had no idea?"

"He's a cricket, Emma!" I try to keep my voice low. "A cricket that feels guilty for killing my Father's parents. I honestly thought that's what they were fighting about. That's all they would fight about at home."

Emma separates her lips to speak, but quickly purses them together again.

"What?" What could be more shocking than her last announcement? Emma doesn't speak, though. Her hands continue playing with sweater strands. "Just say it."

She finally looks up at me. Sadness washes over her face again. "If you really thought that's what they were fighting about, you wouldn't have asked my opinion."

I look away from her then, irked by her critique of me. Her words might be true, but they weren't what I wanted or needed to hear.

After minutes of silence, during which Emma changed her fixation from her sweater to a rip in my jeans, she finally offers, "It makes sense…"

Outraged, I stand. If Emma is surprised, she doesn't show it. "How! How does it make sense? How in this world or the next could any of this make any sense at all?"

Emma stands too and reaches for me. "We don't even know the whole story, August! Years from now, we'll probably laugh about this as a misunderstanding."

"I could never laugh about this!" I step out of her reach. "And if I don't understand this how could anybody understand it?"

Emma winces. "I understand it…"

"Of course you do!" I speak before I process again. "Because it's your idea! That's the only reason you understand it! You put together this theory based on one dinner conversation!"

"August!" She yells out my fake name again. "You know you wouldn't be so upset if you knew deep down it wasn't true."

I ignore her. "How did this crazy idea even come to you?"

"Okay," Emma puts her palms out between us. "Were we at the same dinner table?" Emma's spunkiness I usually love returns. "Because the signs were obnoxiously clear."

"What signs?" I look at her and address her like she's crazy. "What are you talking about?"

Emma sighs. "Like every time your Father would speak, Jiminy would give all of his attention to him, so much so he would have to stop everything else he was doing. When they would look at each, they would hold each other's gazes a second longer than they had to."

"You're crazy."

"Come on," Emma reaches for me again. "It's sweet. It makes sense because you guys are such a family unit already. Jiminy would do anything for you, despite what he felt for your Father, you know that. Maybe that bond pushed them together-" I show my disgust, and she adds, "Who knows! It doesn't matter."

"I do not what to talk about this anymore!" I yell at her.

"Fine!" She yells back. "What do you want to talk about, then?"

"I want to talk about," I lower my voice. "Why you think our future-impending marriage is no big deal!"

Emma's energy from our fight drains, and she steps back. "Pinocchio…" she warns.

"How can you talk about so casually, so indifferently that it makes me feel like I am unimportant to you?" My voice shifts to a singsong one. "Oh, I'll marry him eventually. Who cares what the townspeople are saying."

"I never said that!" Emma starts to yell again, "If you are going to get mad at me, make sure it is for something I actually said."

"You said you didn't care what everyone thinks!"

"I don't!" She tries to regroup herself. "First of all, gossiping about us and judging us are two different things. Second, don't deny that you're just mad because the town brought up the subject of marriage before you did."

"Oh!" My arms go up in frustration and I turn from her. "Don't go acting like you know me better than I do myself. You don't actually know how I feel about anything!"

"Pinocchio." She says seriously, waiting for me to turn back to her. When I do, her are eyebrows raised and her arms are crossed. "This whole conversation, since I arrived here in our precious spot proves that I do, actually, know you better than you know better than you know yourself."

So many frustrated, inappropriate words come in my head; I don't know which one to choose.

Emma walks closer to me, her anger growing with every step. "Were you expecting to marry your true love or not?"

Why doesn't she answer her own question, since she apparently knows me better than I do myself?

After angered thought passes, I'm able to fill my being with love for her. "Of course I was." I whisper.

"Then what's the big deal?" Emma yells. It's her turn to throw her arms up in frustration. "We get married tomorrow, we get married in Fairytale Land, we don't get married at all! Honestly, I don't see the difference! I would think being each other's true loves would be more permanent than marriage." She pauses and I have new appreciation for how cool she is. "I actually was planning on thanking you for not pushing me, happy that you understood me as much as I did you, but never mind!"

Her anger shoots through me as we stare at each other. Emma's breaths are visible in her shoulders and her belly as she tries to catch her breath.

My lips start to turn upward when Emma's anger settles. When my mouth opens to start laughing, Emma rolls her eyes, and starts laughing at the same time. I pull her into my arms.

"Crazy wooden puppet." She says on my shoulder. "I can't believe you're the one I'm stuck with."

I pull back to look at her. Emma's eyes are sparkling so I know she's teasing me. "What am I going to do with you my beautiful Swan Princess?"

Emma leans in to kiss me, only briefly, before running her hand through my hair. It feels so good. Her expression is serious when she says, "You are going to be the same guy you always were." I raise my eyebrows in question, but Emma just smiles. "The wonderful guy who knew when to push me, or when to accept where I am, in whatever moment we're in. The guy who knew not to propose, not to pressure me until he went absolutely crazy himself."

I smile and reposition her in my arms. "I love you, you know."

Emma shrugs cutely. "I know."

"You know?" I act offended. "You're not going to say it back?"

"No," she smiles, kissing my cheek. "You're too insecure tonight. Maybe tomorrow."

"Emma!"

She laughs, rolling her eyes. "Do you really need to hear it now?"

"Yes!"

"Okay," Emma looks deeply in my eyes, and strokes my cheek. "August Wayne Booth. Pinocchio. A Wooden Boy. Whoever you are. I love you and will love you forever if we reach fairytale land or not. You have been the weight lifting my troubles, the sun to my rainy day, the rainbow leading me to gold. You're the curtain unveiling a new world of emotions, of possibilities for me. I would still have a ball attached to a chain holding me to an old life if it weren't for you. You are the only person that comes close to Henry in how much I love you." Emma kisses me too briefly again. "I love you that much, forever, in this land or the next."

I can no longer call myself a writer after her speech. She has managed vocalized my deepest feelings about her in a way I haven't been able to. I would try forever to write down my deepest feelings for her and never put on paper the right way.

I don't know why Emma asked me to write a story about how we first fell in love. Only after remembering this moment, do I realize her story would have been so much better.

All I can do is kiss her. We hold each other fiercely as our tongues met. I feel her smiling when our lips part briefly to catch our breaths. I lift her up and spin her around, while still holding her in a passionate embrace. Reluctantly, I put her down, my thumbs finding her cheeks as she pulls away. The way Emma smiles and laughs adds to my confidence. I can't help repeating, "In this land or the next."

"Or the next," Emma whispers, leaning her forehead against mine while catching her breath.

We stay in the position for as long as it takes to regroup from everything that has happened since her arrival here.

"I have to go," she says softly.

I tighten my grip on her. "Don't go."

Emma closes her eyes. "Okay."

Father's image suddenly reappears in my head. I pushed it down during the marriage debate, but it has surfaced in the peace between Emma and I. "I have to go," I whisper.

I smile when she holds on to me. "Don't go."

"I have to," I tell her. Emma lifts her head. I see a mixture of vulnerability and strength that sends shivers down my spine. "My Father…"

Emma releases me then. Sadness fills me as she steps away. "You should go."

I don't dare reach for her again. If I did, I would probably stay here forever.

The house is dark when I reach the porch. I start to pull my keys from my pocket before I remember the door is new and the lock is different.

Instead of calling inside, I take the opportunity to decide what I want to say to Father when I see him.

The door cracks open. "Pinocchio?"

I turn to him and mange a smile. "Sorry I ran off."

He takes a seat on the porch step next to me. "That's okay. Emma explained it."

I sit up from my crouched position. "She explained it?"

How could Emma possibly explain my actions other than creating an entirely false story?

Taking a risk, I assume Emma told him the truth. "Are you going to tell me it is a complicated misunderstanding and I don't know the whole story?"

Father inhales deeply and his eyes widen. "No. I'm not."

Finally, I turn from him. Closing my eyes, I feel some tension leave my body. It actually feels good. I wasn't expecting relief.

"Although," Father starts, "You don't know the whole story."

My palms wash over my face. I try to put on an expression of bravery when I turn back to him. I'm shocked as I look at his broken face. I have never seen my Father so raw.

Still, my question escapes before I can stop it. "Do you love him?"

Father sighs. I'm surprised relief comes to him too, as if he was expecting to circle around the question for hours. "Yes." He tells me simply. I turn from him again. "But I would never do anything about it, Pinocchio. I could never forgive him for what he did to my parents."

"Well, then," I say much louder. Standing, I look at the open front door alluring me to bed. Father stands up to look at me, my silence torturing him. My expression changes to sadness. "That's just pathetic."

A single tear falls down his face when my words hang between us in the night air.

After it's clear he has nothing else to say, I swivel around his body, pushing the front door further open when I use it to give me an extra boost up the stairs to sleep.

"Happy Birthday!" is yelled in my ear purposely to wake me up. I don't process the words but I turn over, pulling the covers over my head.

"Pinocchio!" Emma yells again, shaking me. "It's August 28th! The day of your wood-to-boy transformation! It's your birthday." She manages to take control of my covers and strip them off the bed. "Rise and shine, you have birthday celebrations to attend!"

With all drama going on, I must have lost track of the days.

"Who told you?" My elbow covers my eyes when Emma forcefully opens the curtains, letting bright sunshine in.

"Your Blue Fairy." Her voice is still loud for the morning, but I like how Emma notes the Blue Fairy as mine. "Who, by the way, is waiting for you!" she excitedly drags me to a sitting position and forces a T-shirt over my head. "Come on!"

Emma tries to pull me up, but I don't bulge. "If I wanted you know it was my birthday, I would have told you. My concealment was actually an attempt to be unselfish."

"Your nose is growing, Pinocchio."

Automatically, my hand reaches up to touch my nose, causing Emma to bust out laughing.

Crossing my arms, I say, "Not funny."

"That was awesome!" she exclaims. When I don't join in on her fun, Emma adds. "I know you forgot your own birthday."

"I. Did. Not."

Emma rolls her eyes. "Once again. I prove I know you better than you do yourself."

Finally, I stand. "Did I insult you on your birthday?"

Ignoring me, Emma takes my hand and leads me down the stairs. The cheering is disproportional to the amount of people who greet us. I'm glad it's a small gathering. Only our family is here to celebrate and I couldn't wish for more.

Father embraces me first. I wrap my arms around him for a birthday hug. I know we have many more charged conversations between us, but they are the last thing I want to think about now. "Happy Birthday, my son."

I barely have a chance to smile at him before other arms reach for me. I haven't seen my Blue Fairy this happy since my first birthday. Jiminy is there. Snow White kisses me on the cheek. Prince James shakes my hand with a friendly smile. Henry unexpectedly raises his arms and waits for me to bend down so he can give me a hug.

Father has prepared another fest for my birthday brunch. Everyone gathers at the table excitedly in anticipation for his magically good food. The meal is delicious and filled with laughter.

While the Blue Fairy uses magic to clear the table, Henry takes the chance to make an announcement. "You know, I have a perfect gift for Pinocchio on his birthday."

"Oh, yeah?" Emma smiles. "What's that, Henry?"

"A BS rematch." He states with authority.

Smiles appear around the table.

"That wouldn't be a good present, Henry." Emma tells him. She looks directly at me when she says, "He wouldn't want the embarrassment of losing on his birthday."

I shake my head back and forth disapprovingly. "You're on, Princess."

My birthday guests chuckle while listening to our competitive bicker. Henry half-jumps around the table dealing cards out to everyone. Emma and I stare each other down, gearing up to take each other on.

"One Two." Henry starts the game.

Years later, I can still hear my family's laughter settling down in order to concentrate on the game. Looking back on my life, my years spent with Emma and without her, I choose that particular birthday has the happiest day of my entire life.

Despite our married life together now in Fairytale Land; including the birth of our daughter who brings me more joy than I ever thought possible, there's something about playing BS that day with each individual sitting around our table:

For the first time Emma's family and mine came together in peace, in love, in celebration.

Since this story is a gift to Emma for our wedding anniversary, I won't share who won the game of BS. I would say it didn't matter, but I've been told I'm a terrible liar.

Honestly, the only reason I remember who won the game is for the reaction that followed. I leaned over to give Emma a kiss at the end of the game, but was affectionately tackled by Prince James and Henry instead.

Only then, around Father's table, did our two households of dignity forever merge into one.

* * *

A/N: Writing Two Households Of Dignity has been such an incredible experience, truly. I doubt I will have another fanfiction experience as rewarding as this one. Thank you to each and every reviewer: Each of them has been the wind powering my sails when I decide to submit each chapter. A special shout out to each of my followers official or not, thank you so much for sticking with me until then end. To the people who are completely anonymous to me, but have looked forward to reading each chapter all the same, what an honor to make you smile. To my readers who have favorited my story, thank you for making me smile.

Two special treats: For those insightful readers who have been paying attention to my chapters' titles. It is true I stole them from Florence and the Machine. Look up August/Emma and "Never Let Me Go" on Youtube. The video isn't mine, but had a huge role in my decision to write this story.

I couldn't leave writing August and Emma. My smile at finishing would turn to a frown if I did. Please check out my new story, "The Wooden Swan Cuckoo Clock."

I know my A/N is like the Return of the King of endings, but everyone who has read my story and has given me feedback in some way: Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I couldn't have had this experience without you.


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